Uh-oh. The katz were yelling so much I fed them again, I think. I think I already fed them. But they prey on my post-menopausal brain and I must bow before them.
Sean came over today and looked at my fallen bath tub. He moved it around, a minor miracle because it weighs ten billion pounds. For the bad news. He suggested a strap kit thang he'll drill? strap? fasten? to the bottom and then he and another brawny guy will 'gently lower' the tub onto the contraption. I don't want to be here when this happens. I think there wil be a lot of cursing and grunting going on. He does think I didn't fuck up the drain.
This all sounds very expensive. Home ownership is a privilege and a headache.
In the old days all I owned fit into a backpack.
Today on the radio there was a story about Merriam Webster. He got fed up with random and creative spellings so he wrote a dictionary that was neither accepted or published in his lifetime. And he probably had OCD.
Ha! Unpublished and OCD.
I can relate.