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Walking away from London Drugs, I thought to myself, if someone were to examine my purchases, they'd probably go "Yep, she's off to get high on the catnip and then eat that bag of chips." That's only half-true. I'll leave it to your imagination which half it is, though.

I puppysat today, and while puppysitting, I was *productive*. Not productive enough to write my 750 words, but productive nonetheless. I found this app for my phone about pomodoros? And as far as I know, that's Italian for tomato, so it makes *perfect* sense that this would be a time management application. The idea is that you do work for a chunk of time (say, half an hour), then have a break (say, 10 minutes), and after 4 (you set the number) chunks of productivity, you get a longer break (say, 20 minutes). I would literally live my entire life by this rule if it could help me be half as efficient as I was earlier today. Also, it tends to keep me from going stir crazy with loneliness, which is my current problem with the puppysitting job, so yay!

I wish my fingers weren't encrusted with rice chip dust. I wish I hadn't eaten that bag of rice chips. I wish that while I was eating those rice chips, pieces of them didn't just keep cracking off, bouncing off my boobs, and landing on my keyboard. There, I said it.

I'm told Sanctuary comes back imminently. I will likely forget this, and remember about halfway through Saturday, when I go, aw crap, I was supposed to watch Sanctuary last night.

I'm glad tomorrow's Friday, because not only is it the end of yet another week, but my parents also come back from the island. I'm glad they had their week away, but I'll be glad when I can stop piling up the unread newspapers on the stairs, and doing laundry, and being all responsible and putting out the recycling for the recycling guy to come and taketh away.

Giant headache. Probably sinus-related. Sinuses related to allergies. Allergies related to the motherfucking pollen (that's almost literal - my mom doesn't deal too well with the pollen either). Pollen making me sneeze. Sneezing blocking up the sinuses again. Sinuses giving up the ghost and making my ears hurt. Ears making my hip hurt (I don't know either).

Also, either I just have really weak ankles (this is likely the case), the pavement is really uneven, or the universe is out to get me. I've twisted my ankle not one, but five times this week alone, and every twist of the ankle causes a subsequent twist of the knee. The knee with the glass shards in it from puppywalking. Agh.

I spent a great deal of time with the cats yesterday. Tessa was feeling better from her mysterious I-don't-feel-like-eating illness, and she was eating again, which was good because otherwise she was getting scooped up and brought to the vet, and I know how much she likes these experiences. Pegasus got lost in the laundry room again. I mean, I looked everywhere before shutting the door after putting on the laundry, but by the time I got upstairs, it was evident that Peggles had not sprinted on ahead of me. Lo and behold, I went back downstairs to loud, distressed mewing. I give her credit, though, she does at least respond to her name when you call her to try and dig her out of whatever downstairs room she's trapped herself in. She spent the rest of the day either curled up on me, or on my laptop, purring contentedly or snoring contentedly. I love when she remembers she's still a kitten and needs to take naps occasionally.

Peggles has also trained herself to run downstairs when she thinks the front door might open. That's such puppy behaviour. If she wagged her tail, I wouldn't be surprised. But nothing, save holding her in your arms, will stop her from catapulting down the stairs when someone comes home. Cute, but problematic, because she's entirely too likely to slip outside like she used to at the apartment. Which reminds me. Peggles has now, officially, spent more of her life at my parents' house, than anywhere else. I wonder how she'll feel when we move in July. I imagine uprooted.

Just an hour more, and I can prepare to go home. I wish my back didn't hurt so much, or that I could pinpoint a reason why.

Word Count: 751
Word Count to Date: 43585

February 2012

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