- Needs to be rewired, but according to the electrician I met with yesterday, will cost 50%-100% more than I originally budgeted.
- Did you know I have a rose archway? I do. I also don't know anything about roses, much less climbing roses. But I do know my archway is severely overgrown and it has come time to hack away at it arbitrarily.
|We're going to take over! Just like in The Happening!|
- I need to get a door for my office. And posts for my porch. I'd explain this in greater depth, but basically now I walk through Diego's room to get to the office. And my house is in danger of falling down in the next snowstorm. No big.
- I also need to get serious about cleaning my room and organizing my office. Enough said about those topics.
- (As a final note, does anyone else find formatting bullet points on blogger extremely difficult?)
So ... much ... needs ... to ... happen ...
What is a girl with no money to do when it comes to Christmas shopping? You might suggest something like thrift stores or homemade goods, but I have some really materialistic siblings, and that is not going to cut it.
I can imagine Christmas morning, Echo offering me some DVDs, new earrings, and sweater ... and I give her the calendar I made on my iMac and printed off at work. On the color printer.
No, friends. Just no.
Remember what I just said about the office? Well, back when I thought I'd only have to spend X on new wiring, I bought myself a lovely new computer for my office. As it turns out now, that was a poor choice.
But I digress.
When it comes to being creative, I need to have organized space. (When it comes to being a lawyer, however ... well, let's just say my office does not reflect that personal ethic.) But I am currently overwhelmed about the piles of books and electronics piled up in the office. Am I the only one who has an extremely difficult time getting rid of wiring? It's like hoarding for the electronics generation. Who knows when I might need that Nokia phone charger again!?
And cleaning with Spencer running around is one of the greater banes of my existence. I will be organizing a file cabinet ... he will be chewing on paperclips. I will be trying to figure out why I have 15 ethernet cords. He will be chewing the ethernet cords.
It's not a good combination.
But ... for all of you who were wondering when I'm going to get back to the subject heading of WRITING ... I do have a new sassy idea that I'm pretty stoked about. So my writing to-do list looks like this:
- Sass up first 10 pages of old project, send to final agent. If said agent does not care for said project, investigate Kindle Direct Publishing. (Yes, it's happening.)
- Evaluate NaNo project. (Official final word count? 21,000 words. Yes, I'm terrible. Suck it.)
- Start new project.
- CLEAN OFFICE.
Yes, he gets his own to-do list. You see, little Spence knows three tricks -- sit, down, and shake. He's masterful when it comes to those tricks. An Olympian, if you will.
But does he come when called? Only if you have cheese. And can I get him to settle down when I want to eat dinner unimpeded? Certainly not. These are issues I must address if I want to be a good pet-owner.
And while I know it's frivolous, I also want him to learn to play dead if I point my gun fingers at him and say, "Bang!" Because that is just damn adorable.
Finally, and perhaps most importantly, I have made a grievous error in my pet training. Namely, I believe that people and pets should maintain separate sleeping spaces. It's fine if you believe otherwise, but I think my bed should be a HUMANS ONLY zone.
But when Spence was neutered, he came home really dopey and in pain, so I let him sleep on my bed. And the next night, when I realized he couldn't fit his coned head into his kennel, I let him sleep on my bed.
And this went on, for two weeks, until the cone and his stitches were no more.
So now, even though I don't want my dog to sleep on my bed, much less a dog that is inclined to start pacing three or four times a night to sleep on my bed (and yes that happens), Spence knows that if he starts whining at 3am every morning, my sleep deprived brain will inevitably cave and let him sleep in my bed.
He had a taste of the good life, my friends. And there's no going back.
Which means every morning l blearily wake up for work with paws and puppy breath in my face, and mentally (and verbally) berate myself for cracking again and perpetuating the whining = special treatment cycle of bad behavior.
But at 3 am, I can be convinced of pretty much anything.
I need to figure out a way to make this not happen any more.
So I guess this all boils down to me saying that CHANGE SPENCER'S BEHAVIOR PATTERNS may be Number 1 on the To Do List. Perhaps even before "prevent house from falling down."
I told you, I'm serious about this sleeping space issue.