Spider-Cat

Tip o' the hat to Lydia for reminding me of this story...

Once, in a former life, I had cat. I was, at the time, living in a rental house - one half of a duplex, actually. The front hall had this odd wallpaper with, I don't know, some sort of woven surface. Not quite firm enough for a basket, but it kind of gave that impression, materials-wise.

One evening while we're watching television, I glance over at the cat. The cat is in the front hall. He is eyeing the wall in a particularly speculative fashion. As I'm watching, he bunches himself up and springs. He must have sunk his claws into that wallpaper, because he stuck to the wall... and then proceeded to walk right up it, almost to the level of the ceiling.

I have no idea what possessed him to do this.

I'm pretty sure, however, that just about the time I made my way over there - marveling as I went - the cat figured out that he had no idea how to get back down. This, I imagine, is one of the reasons that cats bother to keep humans around.

The Hooters

Okay, so, still a bit strung out and worn out. That being the case, you get music this morning. Specifically, you get The Hooters, because that's what I feel like playing right now.



More below the cut...

Weird Week

Monday was a holiday.

On Tuesday, I came into work at 8:00 p.m. for the Great Software Changeover Of Doom.

I went home yesterday at, I don't know, around 1:30 p.m.

So now it's Thursday and I have no idea how the hell that happened. Also, my sleep schedule might be just a teensy bit off.

But, I went to lunch, and grabbed some caffeine. So that should be all good. Except the caffeine just seems to be making me more tired.

If I can make it through the rest of today and get the boys down to bed tonight, I should be able to get to bed and start restoring some semblance of a sleep schedule, hopefully before I progress to full-on visual hallucinations.

Wish me luck, folks.

End of the Hunt

Isham stood in the shadow of the trees and studied the house. It was neat little A-frame, tucked up against the side of a hill; a nice house with a nice view, and no nearby neighbors. Shielding his eyes against the light, he looked for the little details: the shape of the woodpile, the bit of stained glass just visible in the leftmost window, the bird feeder that hung at the corner of the porch.

This was the place. Samina was here, kept by some Natural, and Isham meant to get her out. Satisfied, he retreated back into the trees to wait.

It was dark when he emerged. He approached the house cautiously, wondering if they were expecting him; but nobody emerged to challenge him. A pair of clippers took care of the power line, and the place went dark. Isham was already moving towards the back door. The Naturals should be blind, while he could see better now that his eyes no longer needed to strain against the light.

He had almost reached the door when it swung open and a man stepped out. Isham lunged, knowing he had lost the element of surprise, but hoping he could win it back if he dispatched the Natural quickly and silently. His blade was sharp, and in the darkness he was quick and strong.

The man turned and brought his arms up, sweeping the knife aside and capturing Isham's arm in one fluid movement. A moment later an elbow rammed into Isham's ribs, and a moment after that he found himself face down on the pavement with his arm twisted painfully up behind him. He struggled, trying to free his arm, but the Natural just twisted it further, hurting him, nearing the point where his arm would break. He felt his own steel touch the back of his neck, and went still: defeated and shamed.

Then a child's voice said, "Isham?" and everything he'd thought about this place - his fears, his plans, his expectations - shattered into dust.

Too Old For An All-Nighter

So, last night we made the Great Software Changeover. Or, well, actually it was more like this morning. But it's there and it appears to be working, and hey look! A squirrel. What was I saying?

Oh, right. Biscotti in the breakroom. And anyway, we just need to finish out some of the peripheral setup, and give the thing a day or two to make sure it's working. I'd better go turn in the mobile hotspot, too.

But hey, eventually I had a nice breakfast. Brunch. Something. It had eggs.

I may be too old to be pulling all-nighters.

And now... more sleep

I've delivered Firstborn to his school.

I've delivered my car to the shop.

I have returned home.

Starting at 8:00 p.m. tonight, we will undertake The Great Software Switchover. With any luck, we will emerge triumphant sometime before dawn. Admittedly, that's not the way to bet, but it could happen. Hypothetically. Maybe.

So right now, I'm going back to sleep. Because at my age, that is what one does to prepare for a long and trying evening.

A Goal For Tonight

This weekend has actually gone very well, despite a few odd difficulties (hundred-and-ten degree heat, window on the driver's door of my car suddenly refusing to roll all the way up, a completely random but very brief bit of rain). Of the three main projects that I had scheduled, I've accomplished one of them (Get Enough Sleep), most of a second one (Proof Reading), and sort of vaguely mulled over a third (Finish A Short Story). Also, both boys have been exceedingly well behaved for their ages.

It is now, roughly, bedtime for the two boys. So my plan is to wrestle them into bed, duct-tape them down so they stay put, and come back to write the short story - and, if I have any brain cells left after that, to finish the proof-reading. I'll need to make some food for myself (I never quite got dinner) and set some things up for tomorrow (Firstborn should probably have a lunch to take to school) before I go back to working on projects.

Despite the odd setbacks (fixing the car is going to take a chunk out of my time tomorrow, I suspect), this is actually, well... progress.

I know. I'm as surprised as you are.