...woke up this morning at 7:52 feeling embalmed and turned the alarm off; but I was awake again at 10, so I hopped in the shower, got dressed, and went to the "contemporary" service at church at 10:30.
I had a bag with a few things to donate to the food pantry; and just now it occurred to me, "Did I grab the right bag?" Because it was on the kitchen counter where I also left the brake hoses for the Fiero. That would be good: "Okay, so here's another bag from the church, but these don't feel like canned goods...what the--? Hoses?"
But a paranoid check revealed that I'd grabbed the right bag. Heck, I wasn't that sleepy that I couldn't tell the difference, but mistakes happen. Hehheh.
* * *
So my cat "invented" a new game, entirely without intervention from me. Really, she did the hard part a couple of years ago; but now she has regained access to the requisite toy.
That game is "fetch".
Some times ago--a couple years--the local grocery store had soft foam balls of a type that many cats enjoy as toys. On impulse I grabbed a pack; and Luna (my black cat, named after the cat in Sailor Moon) loves them to pieces.
She loves them so much that she takes them into the front hall, stands on them, and meows piteously, loudly, and continuously. Usually when I am trying to sleep, but not always.
No, I don't understand why.
But the only thing that keeps her from doing that is to put them away where she can't get at them. So they typically reside at the end of the hallway outside my bedroom, up on the CD cabinet; only the other night when I wanted to listen to Gerald Albright while working on my motorcycle one of them fell to the floor, and I said, "I'll pick that up later."
Well, Luna has not been doing her usual thing with them; she's been quiet, so I haven't bothered. But now she's remembered the other thing she likes, which is to bring them to me and meow at me until I throw it down the hallway. Usually I can manage that without leaving my seat at the desk; just a good hard toss at the linen closet door and the ball will ricochet somewhere, and she'll go running after it.
...bring it back to me, drop it by the chair, and meow again until I throw it.
Cats aren't supposed to play fetch. WTF. But, what the hey--she's enjoying it and she needs the exercise, so why not?
* * *
Og and Partner got Exploder 1.0 running last night around 8-ish, which was approximately twenty minutes after I left. Of course, all the hard stuff had been done; most of the time spent on the job was spent on disassembly, because of course the tank was flat-out refusing to be removed from the truck without power tools and hand grenades. WTF.
I didn't do anything but watch, and offer the occasional suggestion or wisecrack. Og sent an e-mail thanking me for the moral support. Well, if I'd thought to wear clothing that could get dirty, I would have tried to help, but in all probability would only have slowed them down. "Too many cooks" and so forth.
As for me, the piston rings for the Suzuki sit on my desk, mocking me; the brake hoses for the Fiero are still in their bag on the counter. And I slept like crap last night; it's nice and cool outside--finally; the projected high for today is some twenty degrees cooler than yesterday's--and all I want to do is go back to bed.
* * *
Having attended one, I am pretty sure that the "contemporary" worship service at the church is not for me. There is nothing whatsoever wrong with it; it certainly is not any less holy or sacred than the "traditional" worship service and I can see why people like them. It's just that it's not for me, is all; I prefer the "traditional" service. I guess I'm a lot more apollonian than dionysian.
Next week, of course, I've got to be at church at 8:30 in the morning in order to greet people for the 9 AM service. I'm really looking forward to it!
* * *
Anyway, I had another slice of pizza, and now I'm starting to feel sleepy. Maybe I'll just take a nap....