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Room: day off

Today's Wednesday, so I got to sleep. I got to re-make my bed again as well. I had loaned the futon to Sis and marxdarx to see if it would help them with their back issues; sadly, it didn't. I got it back today, and re-layered my bed.

Bottom: box spring thing. Next, mattress. Next, couch cushions, with a body pillow and a throw pillow to even things out in the middle. Next, futon. Finally, pillows and sheets and blankets and stuff. I feel like the Princess and the Pea, only without the pea (unless my cat gets mad and even, in which case I'll be the Princess and the Pee, and eris_raven will shortly thereafter be Wet).

Wound up taking the heretofore unused spot-cleaner to the puddle on the floor in the west bedroom. The chiller unit has not stopped the leaking. There is water running under the paint on the walls. It is worse this year than it ever has been before.

At this point I would not mind a tube run down from the chiller unit, under the door, and into the sink, because it would be better than all this godawful garbage that the thing is getting up to now.

Tonight's laundry night, because there was cat piss laundry. Eris took the wet rug over the puddle as an invitation. Argh? I packed up a box to send to my parents. It has two skirts the wrong size, and a jar of prickly pear jelly.

I like the way my bed is now. It's all comfortable.

Tomorrow: plasma, mail box, get elastic, get measurements, find black fabric, find pattern for old-school high-collar shirt (Hancock?), maybe print out, and writing group.

Busy. Yep.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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