How the Universe Seems to Work Lately @ 10:39 am
We have Wyrdsmiths last night and I get kind of psyched about tackling some kind of serious revision of RESURRECTION CODE (which has been, for some reason, a ddeply gnarly book for me to write,) and Mason's sniffles morph into a hacking cough and a full-blown cold... so he has to stay home for school today, effectively munching all my writing time. (I plan to write as Tate, because "she" can be more easily interrupted.)
Plus, I've been really enjoying having Peep upstairs, and what does she do? Pee on the bed. According to Shawn who saw the whole event, Peep didn't even squat. She just let loose, like she didn't quite know what she was doing. When I took her downstairs, however, she went right into the litterbox, like she was thinking, "Oh, yes! This is where I go." I have no idea if she then also pooped or peed again, but I stood there looking at her like, "What? Do you have kitty Alzehiemer's or something, girl?" Thing is, she's YOUNG. Like, no more than four. It depressed me deeply, however, because she's such a sweet cat. She's so delicate and beautiful and really, very affectionate. I guess it's a good thing we never took her off the foster care list at Animal rescue. If you know anyone who wants a cat (and can have ONLY one), Peep never misses when she's on her own. I guess we just have one too many cats here for her to feel comfortable. (Ms. All-Ball harrasses her quite seriously; I'm convinced All-Ball is part Siemese, the way she's so territorial of HER people.)
I didn't end up finishing the Magician last night, but I may get a chance to work on it today as Mason is home and drawing is also something that can be interrupted if need be.