Paraphernalia

I'm sitting on the floor, waiting for Tim to finish installing a new hard drive into his computer upstairs, yet another project that is proving to take much more time than he assumed. He says, "Let's go to Bloom and when we get back I will install the hard drive." I say, "Oh no, if we do that it won't get done." Unfortunately, I still can't feel smug about being right because that also means that I will spend most of my night alone. This cannot be helped. If I ask him to finish later then I can't scan my photographs tomorrow and I don't pass go or collect $200. That is to say, I remain in the same place on my "to do" list that is now outgrowing its own notebook.

Isaac has fallen asleep in his bouncer and Faust is ignoring me. On purpose, I might add. I can tell by the way she flips her tail at me whenever I call her name. I've managed to raise such a polite feline.

I am currently working on four family photo albums, with three others in queue for someone else. I am also re-upholstering an armchair, painting some new floral designs, writing a manuscript, and starting up a book club. I would have thought that all this, along with a four-month old baby, would be enough to keep me preoccupied, but no. Instead I am waiting on parts or pieces or papers or some other kind of paraphernalia. The worst part about it is that the more projects I take on, the more ideas for projects I discover and thus the downward spiral continues until my brain feels like it might just explode. This is unfortunate for Tim, considering that he is the one footing the bill. Then again, when I become a successful author or I sell a line of art or I open my coffeehouse, he can live off me. We have high hopes of building a house in a tree and spying on our unaware neighbors.

Until then I will have to be satisfied with the next door cat, who likes to come sit on the back porch and stare through the glass door at Faust. It's highly entertaining, actually, because Faust dislikes this cat to an enormous degree and spends hours running full force at it as if to attack. She always smashes into the glass first, leaving me cause to wonder: does she forget it is there or is she hoping that the other cat will?