Thursday, November 04, 2004

Midnight Again

My back is killing me and I’m about 155 words short on my novel today. I’ve been trying to keep it at 1666 words a day. Yesterday I wrote more than that. Oh well I’m tired and I will have the weekend to make it up. I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow, back to the psyche guy. I’ve been doing better as far as my attention, not as good as I would like, but better but I’ve been much more of a bitch and less inclined to be nice. I’ve not been winning friends and influencing people. I’ve been telling them where to stick it. This, in one way, makes me feel bad. In another way, I don’t give a shit. I’ve gotten tired of being the nice peacemaker who takes whatever comes at her. I try to remember that standing up for myself doesn’t mean I have to be cruel. So, there. Nate has been on my nerves a bit, but I think he feels the tension. The election, the disappointment, not to mention all of the time sitting at my desk actually writing something I have to think about. Normally he’s off in La-La Land, happy as a lark that Mom isn’t paying much attention to the fact he just dismantled a lamp or drug all of the stuff out of the closet I was trying to hide. Not this time. He comes in and sits behind me, listening to an eclectic mix of music, from Nickelback to Winger to Learning Spanish to Buddhist Monks chanting and then begins patting me. He does this to bother me. He knows this bothers me. I know its attention seeking but its not a great form of attention to seek when Mommy threatens to nail him to the inside of the closet and shut the door. Then there’s the cats. Fatty-Fatty-Two-By-Four-Prego-Mama-Ho-Slutbag-Morticia wanted to waddle her bulbous belly all over my keyboard tonight and when I finally put it on the printer table she settled right down. Then Napoleon comes in and she throws a hissy, a growling hissy at that and I have to reprimand them both. Sigh. Speaking of said Prego Cat above, I’m even more convinced that she is due close to my birthday. As a matter of fact, I figure she’s due right on my birthday. I love wrapping my hands on her belly and feeling the little kitty kicks. I can tell by how they’re kicking that they’re not big enough yet. She looks more than big enough. Their kicks are still pretty weak and bubbly like. Not the rolling, pitching, 16 feet pawing that went on the last time right before she gave birth. Nate likes it too. He’s a real cat lover. Wanted to pick up one of the feral cats that hang out behind the mall. Nix, nix, nix!!! That’s it from my end of the world. Now, I’m going to bed.
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