My downstairs neighbor is moving out. This is very good. She has left a burner on and I came home to the smoke detector going off and all the animals had wads of toilet paper in their ears. Then after we told her we were giving her notice, she mentioned that some sparks came out of an outlet after she plugged in her ancient toaster. No wonder it was on the curb. And only a little smoke up the wall. Now she moans and bangs around down there, punctuated by yelps and cussing.
I like the word 'cuss'. It has a friendly sound to it. Different from curse or blaspheme. You can cuss and belch and drink beer and snort a luggy.
All my house is disordered. I can' t find anything and I don't seem to have any energy to make any changes. I have to clean out my studio, my closets and throw a lot of s**t away. A lot. I think it would make me feel better. And I could paint my office. The yellow in here is too aggressive. Where are my mother's pearls? Where is the jewelry I hid? If I take in a few more cats, it will be clear, I have lost it.
Lola peed on my meditation cushion. Why o why? What is the message o cat of mystery? See how tolerant I am? I didn't even throw anything at her. Truth to tell, I don't know it was her. Maybe it was a stranger cat who comes in and hides my mother's pearls and pees on stuff.
No comments:
Post a Comment