The apartment in which I will not be living much longer has ledges built into the walls around chair-rail height. These ledges are about 5 inches wide--perfect width for cat butts.
Mack the boy cat lives to walk across my desk. Over and over, blocking my view. Occasionally stopping to try and eat my plants. Knocking my candles onto the floor. Stepping on whatever is on my desk--paper, sandwich, whatever. All in the pursuit of looking out the windows...
This is pretty much our daily routine. Especially if I'm eating--the effort goes up a few notches.
I've decided that I'm tired of waiting for my hubby to finish my rough draft of FOUR before I read it. He has 13% left, and that's close enough, right? So I'm going to start reading today. Let's see, it's been...28 days since I finished? Yes. So, a February has gone by, and I think that's enough time.
Last night I started to chicken out about revisions. I'm a big coward when it comes to revisions--I get so many ideas that they start snarling in my head until I feel like beating it against the wall. That's usually when I scrap the revision idea and start on a new draft.
But not this time. Thankfully, my stalwart CPs (Lola, Portia, and Tara) are there to talk me away from the ledge. Last night I kept my breakdown limited to just my hubby, and he snapped me out of it well enough, but I know I'm going to need hand-holding. Turns out I'm a little bitch baby when it comes to revisions. (I got the phrase "bitch baby" from Grey's Anatomy and I love it.)
Oh, and what's all this about the world ending and such on Saturday? I have plans on Saturday, thanks.