Cloudy and cool out today, and I should drag myself to the supermarket because there's less than an inch of milk in the carton and there will be coffee and tea to cloud in the morning - but I'm not in the mood to travel.
Himself can swing by the store on his way home from work. He will not welcome the assignment, but he'll get over it.
Harley (cat) is coiled on the chair-and-a-half in the office, out for the count because he managed to get himself locked out on the screened porch last night, and apparently couldn't get much sleep, what with all the raccoons, possums and God knows what else traipsing around the property when the lights go out.
A cat's No. 1 job, the way I see it, is to monitor. Who can get any rest when your ears are steering right and left, forward and back all the night long, because some silly woman puts kibble out for meandering critters?
He looks a little thinner for the experience.
I wonder why anyone thought to invent a chair-and-a-half, if only one person at a time can sit in them? For two very, very thin people, maybe, but how do you carry on a conversation when your faces are, like, four inches apart?
For one really big person, who runneth over a chair built for one?
Seems like a silly undertaking, now that I think about it, so what possessed me to buy it? I can't find slipcovers that fit, and a home with three cats should never be without slipcovers.
I need to start thinking things through.
From the junk drawer in my mind:
Did anyone but me catch word of a study conducted by I know not whom because I only caught the tail end of the news report, that Hawaii is in the top five of the "happiest states" in the country (including the District of Columbia), and Oregon is dead last?
I have no idea what they based this on - sunny days? Money in the bank? I'm thinking the economy, loss of jobs and the housing market probably have something to do with the other end of the stick, but I'm really not sure.
Suicides? That would seem a likely indicator, but I don't get that any more people off themselves in Oregon than in other states, so possibly not.
I need more information.
Our dining room, where no one ever dines, looks like one of those rental storage units. Boxes, three high and three deep, awaiting transport to Goodwill and elsewhere; the ever-present treadmill that should also have a slipcover, if I were a better person; a plastic tub of wreath-making paraphernalia I have no place for, but tell myself it's just for now.
No one has longer nows than me.
Here's the thing: I am, in the next couple of months, going to get my own studio. Well. Fancy shed, because, like Virginia Woolf proclaimed, every woman needs a room of her own, and I don't have one.
I have already purchased a door knocker in the shape of a gardening trowel, to announce any visitors, and am looking for window boxes for red geraniums because fancy sheds have windows. With screens, I might add, so gnats and wasps can't have at me when I'm out there being very creative.
Well. That's my theory, anyway. I'll let you know how it goes.
Harley has crossed both front paws over his eyes so no one will see him, and may sleep on into the night. Himself just called to tell me something I already knew and has been informed he needs to stop and get milk. And even though he lately declared he's going on a diet, I know there will be cookies in the bag when he gets home, and possibly ice cream - reward for having to interrupt his trip home.
And, as this is all I have in me, I'm going to go downstairs and have my way with a bag of Cheetos.
The crunchy kind.
* Lynne Horner is a former Maui News features editor and writer who now lives in Springfield, Ore. Her "Second Thoughts" column appears every Tuesday. Send e-mail to her at firstname.lastname@example.org.