It's happened again. I've hit the end of my patience with unthinking, insensitive, weaklings. How is it that people lose their minds and/or their senses, just when you think that you can trust them to be wise and strong? I give up.
I wish C-note would wake up and play the SG. It's lonely without having heard Stairway to Heaven in over 12 hours.
Today we need to continue our rearrangement of the house, with the help of nancy x, who is coming over but I forgot what time. Nothing like yesterday though, where we needed a full-grown man to haul large pieces of furniture in and out, up and down, here and there, and otherwise. Thanks Q!
The new sleeping arrangements are fantastic!!! I had the whole bed to myself, while Mr. B slept soundly in the tent. Why didn't I think of this earlier????
C-note's new way of getting out of bed and saying good morning: Proclaiming that he didn't get any sleep and slamming the bathroom door. Hmmmm.
I must have inherited the furniture moving gene from my mother. Often I would come home from school to find that she had rearranged the house in some subtle or not so subtle way. She usually got my father to be her accomplice, however, occasionally he would refuse and she would be stuck with the way things were. Not to be stifled though, she would then just change everything around in the kitchen so that the next time you went for a cup or fork, you had to search all of the cupboards endlessly.
As humans are creatures of habit, it would take about a week to get used to the new arrangements. Usually, just when you thought you were safe and had the whole thing memorized, she would change a few details that just didn't seem to suit her. Silly Mom.
Well, after officially unpacking from our vacation, I have decided to rearrange all of the furniture in our house. Well, why not? What is in C-note's bedroom is now in transit to my bedroom. What is languishing in the living room, is now in transit to C-note's bedroom. What is in my bathroom, will end up on my balcony, while what is on my balcony, will move to the upstairs balcony.
I have already moved all of the living room furniture down to the lower end of the room near the fireplace, leaving a gaping space at the other end. Still deciding what to do there. What was used as a bed in Mr. B's room is going to be dismantled and stored. He will now sleep on a mattress on the floor, just like he lives in a flophouse. That seems to suit him well just now. His bedroom does not have the distinction of being fashionable, tidy, or even remotely livable. At least there are no cockroaches, but there are a few ants. Mr. B does not like ants. He's an ant killer extraordinaire. He inherited the ant-killer gene from his father.
