The Tension Tango Strikes Again!

My furry alarm clock

Could NOT sleep last night. Did NOT sleep last night. Until, until a little before 4AM, which is, of course, when I usually get up. I was dreaming that some fit-beyond-belief, young, TALL, pro-cycler woman was temporarily living with me.

She chased a large, adult black and white cat (sort of a reverse image Coco or Rocco – like Skitter but with black not grey spots – into my bedroom where I was sleeping (HEY cool – in my dream, I was getting rack time!). I woke and, naturally, began petting the precious but scared boy. And then realized this was a newbie – NOT one of my regular herd. 'the hell?

Biker Babe, seeing that I was awake, began a fast plea to allow Whitey to stay. It wouldn’t be permanent, she begged.

Of COURSE I said yeahsureK but was dreading the 99,000,000 kinds of holy hell that Coco and Rocco would give me for this.

And then, then, our fierce former feral gave me my wake up nudge. He was not to be turned away either. Hiding was fruitless. Smart thing’s figured out how to drag the covers down offa my head. Rocco is a determined old boy.

That black blob is our not so sweet and innocent escape artist

new floor tiles!

So then, why couldn’t I sleep? I was rockin' the Anxious City action. Gets me every damn time.

I’ve just gotten a few big design/layout jobs which is GREAT, I needed more work and not just for my wheezing bank account. When I'm teasing out solutions to sticky layout problems and making someone’s presentation more, em, presentable, I get laser focused. For a few hours, my mammoth grief takes a backseat. Work is now like a mini vaca. (how d'ya like that!?) So what’s with the Worry Watusi? Two of the jobs are due Monday. Will I get them done, and done well, by Monday? Umm, hope so!

Another source of disquiet – I’m having my kitchen floor redone this weekend. The seashell themed linoleum that I fell in love with when we first viewed Valhalla, has become ratty as all hell. It’s time, well past time even, to give it the heave ho. Helen’s husband John’s doing the work. YEA!

But wut up with the Tension Tango on this front? Cats.

Coco’s always a flight risk. For her, running out the door and having me chase her around the neighborhood is brilliant amounts of fun. For me? Not so much AT ALL. With work being done en la casa, there’ll be much coming and going and many opportunities for our girl to zip out. Given less than half a chance she will too. *sigh*

Rocco? He'll just hide in the back of my closet until he’s sure we’re alone again. That’s fine – he's safe but I hate that he’s so afraid. I wish there was a way to chill him out. He needs kitty lorazepam.

So then, I'm up. Coffee's made. It's time to jump to lightspeed.