Procrastination: In which our hero has nothing about which to write

I've done nothing all week but work and sleep. Over 12 hours a day either on the road, or working, or having de-briefing meetings after work, or desperately searching for a Starbucks to stave off narcoleptic driving. I actually missed my exit while sleeping in motion on the freeway, night before last.

I've had no inclination to post about anything because nothing has caught my interest. I can't even drum up a good mall report. I am reduced to choosing a standard mood from the LJ list. L'horreur!!

Today, I really need to get my car over to a local mechanic to discover why it has suddenly started overheating and then go over to the post office to collect the 18 or so heavy HEAVY boxes I packed and mailed to myself. Oh, how I do not want to lug those boxes again. Or clutter my apartment with them, for that matter. I don't even have bookcases in which to put the books, yet. On the bright side, while still full they'll make an excellent coffee table. But first I need a couch.

I also have to go to the grocery sooner or later. The only things to eat in the house are two blackly freckled bananas and a jar of peanut butter. Gimme a loaf of Wonder Bread and I'm Elvis, baby. The older drug addled one, not the young sneering swivel-hipped one.
  • Current Mood: lazy, apathetic, vaguely lusty
Did you bring your bed?
No, I went to Ikea and bought a futon. More furniture will have to wait until I've gotten past the moving expenses and rent and such, like a couple weeks.
They're adjusting very well. Any remaining feelings of stress or unease are expressed by sleeping in protected hidden places and so forth, but that's mostly ended as well.

They now recognize when it's me coming in the door and they both sit out in the open to greet me. Webster waits right at the door. They're getting used to the local sounds and neither of them has felt the need to run and hide for anything, recently.

In short, they're pretty much back to normal.
My cats have always been indoor cats. There's a busy road right outside my apartment. They wouldn't last two seconds as outdoor cats around here.
Admittedly, Webster showed a sudden urge to see what was outside when we first started our drive across country, and he does stay very close to the front door when I walk in. He hasn't tried to make a dash outside, though. They would probably both like to sit out on the balcony but they can just wack at moths through the screen on the sliding door as far as I'm concerned.
Which leads me to believe that our cats reflect our personalities, based on this comment thread.

Also, be still my heart