This is my 15-minute break from cattery cleaning. There's something about physical exertion that triggers the writing part of the brain. (Perhaps it's just a thinly-veiled excuse to stop moving and sit down. I do get tired of dripping sweat onto my clean floor.)
Practice apparently does make perfect. The half of the floor I've mopped is spotless. (Well, it was when I left the room. I have every faith that my darling kittycats are battling to shed all over it even as I write.) The trick is apparently to keep the plastic scraper in one hand, focus on no more than four tiles at a time, and scrape up any spot that doesn't yield to three or four swipes of the mop. Whew. I was beginning to feel incompetent.
Brief Leonids report: Black Rock desert far, temperatures below freezing, meteors fantastic (we were getting up to 5/second before I crawled into the truck cab to sleep). My guardian angel deserves a raise, since one of the two very worn tires on my truck waited until I got all the way back to elflet's in San Jose before going flat on me. (Sure, I needed to spend another $500 this month. Ow. But it beats the hell out of a blowout on a dirt road in the desert where there's no cell service.)
If I finish the cattery in good order this afternoon, then I'll give myself permission to drive back to SJ to hit a party this evening. Then, um, Saturday will probably be spent cooking for the party on Sunday, Sunday afternoon I'm committed to be in SJ whether or not I go today, Monday night there's DE class in the Bay Area...
I'm beginning to wonder why I'm bothering to fret about my December mortgage payment. The place is turning into a storage space for clothes and cats again. :-P