December 5th, 2004

running, bomb tech

Silence Again

There's something so very comforting about chatting with your best friend, even for a very few minutes, even when neither of you really has anything to say. He's become accustomed to the idea of me wanting to speak with him, even when I haven't anything new to say to him, and he hasn't anything new to say to me.

Eventually, I think the concept will trickle through his thick skull that I do, in fact, enjoy time spent in his presence, and furthermore, I prefer his presence to complete solitude.
Housewife's Lament

Cleaning Things

It's time for me to Re-Arrange the Room (yet again) now that the bunkbed is in here. Chaos, turmoil, and discord have been building; it's time to get things straightened out as much as they ever do. Maybe this time there will be room for everything?

The Former Helpdesk (which actually probably wasn't that, as it had different numbers of drawers, and isn't wide enough) will be moving, which is an Epic Endeavor. (Thanks yet again, evealone, for helping schlep that home.) The desk is a very solid metal and faux wood one, the sort that stands up to heavy abuse in a busy office.
  • Current Music
    "Star Me Kitten (Demo)" by R.E.M.
Housewife's Lament

Fen and the Art of Vacuum Cleaner Maintainance

Evidently there is a secret channel in the common household upright vacuum cleaner, between the rotating brush and the place where the flexible hose plugs in, a tube that can become plugged up with Carpet Fluff, human hair, and those fuzzies that just naturally migrate off the felines in our lives.

After extensive whacking when the instrument failed to suck properly, I discovered this secret place, and promptly pulled out enough fluff to leave eris_raven with massive hairballs for a week. Like a fool, I thought this was all, and tried to vacuum once more. Alas, the vacuum cleaner started leaving streaks of black sock fuzzies on the floor. So I upended the instrument (safely powered down) and detached the hose once more, only to be showered with grit, dust, and shards of the greenware lamp that Miss Raven lately shattered.

Much muffled cussing, a wrongly shaped piece of purple plastic, some tweezers, and finally an old toothbrush later, I think I managed to clear out the problematical passage.

The floor is actually becoming clean, much to my amazement and delight. Now, we'll see what happens when I try to move the bed...
  • Current Music
    "Rattlesnake" by Live
running, bomb tech

My socks have muscles.

My bed is now flush against the South wall; my head on the pile of pillows will be pointed East. The cats clearly think I'm on crack or something; Moshie is debating the merits of attempting to jump up into the top bunk.

The Former Helpdesk is against the East wall; Thalia will soon wind up over there, along with things like phones and lamps and all manner of useful things. Perhaps there will be coffee table presence. Bookshelves and the Earth itself will move.

For now, however, the Lunatic is utterly fagged out. Too much fanfic has nothing to do with this.
Housewife's Lament

Room Update

My room now begins to resemble something approaching sane. Sure, there are papers and crud piled over every single surface in the room, but the nasty-ass old desk is gone, the bed is not blocking the window anymore, there are alarm clocks placed at sane places in relation to the bed, the bed and the laptop are within reasonable proximity, and, very crucially, there is now a proper place for me to put my large mug of water, one that I can reach from bed.

There are all sorts of insane bits of clutter on the top bunk. I have yet to find places for everything, and I have a feeling that things will be thrown out, recycled, consolidated, merged, filed, and otherwise made more compact and shipshape. The rest of the apartment is a disaster area too.

Telephones are plugged in and accessable. (Incidentally, I should stop using the cordless in my room for anything resembling an important call, because it will lose power partway through, because it's a cheapass phone and it's already a year or so old.)

I may actually finally have room to deploy my (recycled, as in from the recycle area by the dumpsters) coffee table. This excites me in ways that home decoration should not excite me. I do, in fact, have the exact place to put this marvel of structural engineering, and wouldn't you know -- things without proper homes (such as backpacks, flashlights, and stray markers) automatically look less like clutter when they are sitting on a bona fide coffee table. I think I even have a bottle of coffee to set there too.

I'm going to be very, very sore tomorrow, but in the good way, the way that means that I've had a good workout.

Incidentally, is it sad that at one point on a science test, I was humming that song to myself to try and remember the sun's temperature for a multiple-choice question?
  • Current Music
    "Why Does the Sun Shine? (The Sun Is a Mass of Incandescent Gas)" by They Might Be Giants