A small shop done, and it’s only 9:40. I am feeling accomplished. But there’s a but hiding in that smug statement.
Honestly, I think I need a twelve step program for my relationship with my room. It’s a sty. How can a 51 year old nominally sane woman (there are different views….) come to such a pass? Cazart!
I do have a large enough garbage bag…. I think. Time to winnow, hoe, and likewise shovel cruft.
In other news, another good rehearsal. I was scowling at the drummer, Abby, (who has a cajon, woot!) because she wants me to play the guitar the Same Way Every Time. What, like a professional? Blurk…. Gig is tomorrow at two, thirteen hundred block of Commercial, see you there! Oh, and that’s two-ish, because, like, it’s the Drive, and like, it’s Italian Day.
