i had this list, made it this morning during my second cup of coffee- right before my penmanship went from 'marginally crazed' to 'sing sing cell block E'. it had been my hope to finish by end of day leaving myself open for any number of wildly enticing activities the rest of the weekend. (i.e. sitting on my ass)
as i sit here exhausted & mentally depleted i am only slightly pleased by the notion that all that is left to do is vacuum my stuffed cat 'sandwich head'. it's only 8:30 & i feel as though i have spent the last 48 hours crawling through the jungles of the mekong delta on my stomach. in reality i haven't spent my time doing anything even remotely as dramatic though comparatively speaking, it's been almost as futile. i've been doing my list of chores.
let me begin with the thermostat that i am beginning to believe has a direct connection to hell. it has never worked right. last year when the weather began to cool i tore off the old one & then lost the wires behind the wall. after cutting a hole in my wall to retrieve said wires i discovered that the new thermostat i bought was too new for my archaic wiring. after much messing around i fashioned a make shift substitute using parts of the new one with some copper wire i found on the back of jack's behemoth pbr sign from the 50's & an embroidery needle. it certainly wasn't pretty & it wasn't so much a thermostat as it was an 'on/off' switch for the furnace. i had two options... blistering hot or nothing. i tend to like it toasty- but after forgetting to turn it off in the morning before i left for work on a couple occasions & then returning home to a house that was easily 120 degrees i realized something had to be done.
unfortunately, the only time i had to think about the fact that something needed to be done was at 3 am when i couldn't sleep at night. it has taken me almost a full year to finally get around to tearing it apart again. i bought yet another thermostat, this time making sure it was for people with shitty wiring one step above having a small monkey in the back room on a bicycle (oh to be so lucky). i should have been dictating the temperature of my house 10 minutes later. however..... nothing is ever that simple in my life.
3 hours, 1 drilled finger, 4 copper wire stabs under the nails & YET ANOTHER frankenstein thermostat made by ME, not honeywell (fuckers) from parts scavenged off of every thermostat ever installed in this house since 1908... i have a furnace that not only works but can be set to whatever degree i want. if it weren't for the gaping hole still in my living room wall you would think you were in a perfectly temperature controlled suite at the carlyle. of course all sense of achievement is lost by the fact that it's so fucking cold in here i have it turned all the way up anyway.
in the middle of my mcguiveresque home wiring project i decided to run to the pet store & get some stuff i needed. squeaky bumble bee toys for dog. check. cedar chips for quail cage. check. cat food & freeze dried meal worms. negative. i came home, resumed work on the heater & cleaned out the quail cage. this is when i also give them their weekly once over: clip their toe nails & beaks, clean off their feet if they've been hanging out in their own crap... riveting stuff all of it... but it's usually uneventful. not today of course. miette for some unknown reason totally freaked out when i pulled her out of the cage & snapped part of her wing. i didn't know exactly what happened- all i knew was that i was holding a bird flapping wildly & with every flail she was getting blood all over the place. at first i thought i had somehow stabbed her but after closer inspection i realized it wasn't really all that bad- she just had cut herself when she ran into the cage. cleaning her up & getting her back into shape was not such an easy task & i won't go into the gory details, because they were not at all pleasant but aside from a few dirty looks whenever i walk by her nice clean cage she seems to be unfazed by it all & you can't even tell she hurt herself. (thank god.. i love my fat little quail. they are so cute.)
i continued with my list. slowly, arduously checking off one mundane task after another, each of them presenting a never ending stream of bullshit problems simply because i had made a list in a futile attempt to be 'productive' today. all that was left was "vacuum& dust the living room *including sandwich head" & a quick trip to the grocery store to get a few things (including some fancy greens & fruit for miette as a post-op comfort meal). i figured sandwich could deal with dust awhile longer, i needed food- so i went to the store without thinking for a second what i looked like. california vanity can kiss my ass.
it was back in my kitchen eating a cookie that i noticed the blood on my hands. even then, it didn't phase me, i walked to the bathroom to wash them- shoving the last hunk of stale double chocolate chip cookie into my mouth with a dried blood finger. (we run a tight ship around here when it comes to health codes). it was when i looked in the mirror while scrubbing my nails that i noticed what looked like a fine arterial spray across my face & chest & what became a slightly more disturbing display of blood across the front of my legs.
who knew such a tiny little quail could shoot out so much blood & be happily dining on pear & mescalin salad 2 hours later? i on the other hand looked like i had butchered a small child & stuffed them into the hole in my living room wall. didn't ANYONE wonder what the fuck i was doing nonchalantly shopping for japanese pears at the market covered in blood? i mean i know the alhambra safeway is a bit sketchy & attracts a less than savory crowd (it's no dean & deluca) but come on. i even commented on eric, my check out guy's, new hair cut- i told him it looked cute & he did his usual little rap for me. generally he doesn't lean toward the gangsta side of things so it was the usual 'little miss heatha's buying spendy greens for her feathas'- but this is one time when it would have been appropriate to maybe toss in a 'yo, bitch...you're covered in blood' & then mimic an ak-47 for effect. but no, i got run-dmc 'peter piper' reworked to include my purchases for the day.
so anyway, it's been a long day. i still have to wash the blood off my face & neck. i decided to eat something first & then i was going to take a bath- why wash it off when you can soak in it? that was an hour & a half ago. i got sidetracked by the glowing box on my desk. i still need to eat. i'm starting to get dizzy & this is really boring slop. i'm not in a writing mood. it's unfortunate that i just wasted 20 min... writing.