Scattershot in Well now

Disjointed information. I find myself hardly able to complete a sentence lately, much less a coherent entry. Twelve hidden drafts in about as many days attest to the fact that I just can’t finish a thought, at least not well enough to take it public.
Whatever. It doesn’t matter. I’ve really got to let go of my self-stranglehold. Ease up. Post partial because it isn’t brain surgery - well, not literally.

My original title for this mishmash was going to be Blame It on My ADD. Then it was going to be Blame It on My OCD. Then I just fought with myself over which was more the case until, finally, since the either alternative option was completely applicable, I tossed them both and went with Scattershot which is going to work cause I’m not even going for cohesion.

Frustration

My desktop is irreparable - Not that I use it as much as I used to, but I miss the keyboard. I can type like nobody's business on a real keyboard. Tapping out the letters on this tablet screen is just maddening. It affects the way I talk here because I'm working way harder on aim than on thought. On a keyboard I just think and my fingers take care of putting the words down. Ugh, tablet typing is like jogging in quicksand.

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Immediate future

It's nearly 3am now. Pretty much every light in the house is on 'cause I'm in full-on awake mode right now and I'm popping up from my seat here to do this and that every few minutes. I'm working scattershot in the house just like in the writing - There's laundry doing and a dishwasher to empty and floors needing sweeping even before all the other things that just nag the hades out of me, screaming FIX ME, CLEAN ME, REARRANGE ME, TOSS ME, PAINT ME and on and on. My house is a minefield of things that need attending to. I start the one task, working at it until the next one screams louder than the one I'm currently dealing with, and nothing ever gets done. Every task becomes just another false start, another draft entry in the flesh. Argh.
But this paragraph started to tell that it's just before 3 and in a few hours from now it will be close enough to dawn for me to go out and trikke over to the diner for a very early breakfast.
Sleeping I'll do later in the day. I screwed up my sleep cycle completely yesterday by getting off work early and taking a noon nap that turned into the best sleep I've had in months. Eight hours for a body used to existing on three hour stints at best. It was almost intoxicating. Actually, I'm not sure if it was sleep or actual coma. A full night's sleep is such a vague memory for me that it feels as odd and delicious as the last time I accidentally bought real milk instead of skim. That tasted like ice cream. This sleep satiety is just as heady. It may have occurred out of sequence, but it was tasty indeed.

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Annoyance

The chair and a half just will not go away. It's driving me crazy. I bought the blue paisley (!) recliner because I needed something comfortable to sit in, but also to sleep in without having to use the monster in the box. surprisingly, it worked out well. I sleep in the recliner most of the time now and, as the lack of morning hypoxic headaches would seem to indicate, I seem to be breathing fine.
The recliner was supposed to replace the huge chair and a half. In a house this small and cluttered, there simply isn't room for the three by four foot mini-sofa AND the recliner. So I gave the no longer loved massive clutteration away to a friend who really admired it. She was so thrilled when I offered it. She'd send someone over to pick it up right away, she said. Sigh. That was over three weeks ago.
Since the recliner came, I pushed the chair-plus into the foyer area and have had to squeeze in and out of the house which rather irks the first week and then moves into the "when does shit around here ever get simpler?" mode after that. Yes, of course I asked her when she's getting it out of here. Excuse, apology, excuse, apology again. End result, she's going to send someone out to pick it up right away - whenever that is. (I can't say to hell with her and throw the chair out because she's really a sweet, if crazy, person and I really owe her. She took care of the cats for me both my last Christmas trips.)
And that's how it happens right now that I have a huge green chair laying upside down on my bed (in the living room). It wasn't easy at all getting it up there, as you can just imagine. I am, however, a marvel at leverage and, even with the back in the state it's in, I was able to get it up there on my own. It's not great decor, but at least now don't have to fight to get out my front door anymore.

On the other hand

I am inordinately happy/proud with the new doings in the laundry room. For a person who craves order as much as I do, I live an incredibly disorderly life. There is little in my life and, more especially, in my house that is as it should be.
The chaos that I live and live in is a constant proof of my personal belief that entropy is the ruling force of the universe. The only thing that keeps any system from falling into total chaos is the constant application of a greater amount of energy to keep it together. Things just want to fall apart, my things especially.
But that's my general theory on entropy. It applies to this particular soliloquy thusly - I took arms against a sea of clutter and made a palpable dent. I bought a huge wire shelving unit - four feet wide and six feet tall - at a 75% off discount and put it together (by myself! - self-backpat) in the laundry room. My friend Pat gave me another almost as large wire shelving unit that was missing a few shelves and brackets. I pulled out my toolbox, drilled some pole-sized holes in a few boards and the wood-and-wire hybrid FrankenShelves was born.
To fully understand how seriously cool this is, you have to remember that this house only has one closet and no exterior storage at all. In one fell swoop of a last week-end, I more than doubled the organizable storage area in the house. Now the yard implements have a place to be put. The cans of paint and caulk and toolbox and extra bathroom tiles and all those other things that should go in the garage I don't have, all that stuff isn't strewn through the entire house making throw-my-hands-up-in-defeat jumble piles.
All week long I've been gathering objects from all over the house and walking them, one by one, to the laundry room to introduce them to their own special brand new place to be and not get tripped over. I am a little worried about the near giddy happiness that comes over me with each journey.
Is this quiet joy just a bit beyond what would be considered healthy?
Don't answer that!

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Tessa Now

For such a small fluffy frail old lady, damn, can that cat snore! She's currently rattling the windows.

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Okay, enough for the moment.