I got up at nine this morning.

No, wait. That’s not true. Let me back up.

…
Brett woke me up at 4:30 or 5:00 this morning and was weird and passive-aggressive (it’s hard to explain, but when you’re with someone this long you can tell the intent behind the way they cross your ankle with theirs or move the blankets around or exhale or whatever, and I could tell he was feeling grumpy and passive-aggressive although probably no one else would have noticed) until I finally made him cuddle with me and stop being a freak. He responds well to cuddling and was soon purring like he normally does.

He said he was agro because he hasn’t been sleeping well (I think he’s actually experiencing a little light insomnia now that he’s 31). He complained about the bed and his back hurting, and I did too. Finally he got up to get ready for work around 7:30 and I was able to get some damn sleep.

…
I got up the second time at nine this morning.

I made coffee. I put the leftovers from Brett’s birthday dinner at Regina’s into the fridge (he’d left them on the counter all night). My cleaning schedule said today I’m supposed to clean the entryway and laundry room, so I did that – I swept, cleaned the window in the back door, organized the pile of garbage that needs to go out into the dump truck but which I ain’t haulin’ up there in the damn rain, thank you, and washed the dog bowls – and then I did the dishes.

It wasn’t even noon yet, and my official chore list was already done. I started some detail cleaning in the kitchen.

I washed the set of 6 Depression-ware cordial glasses that my grandma sent me a couple of years ago for Christmas, and I rearranged the knick-knacks on the windowsill above the sink so I have something nice to look at while washing the damn dishes every day for the rest of my life.

I got out this groovy fluffy-thing-on-a-wand that Elisabeth gave me as a housewarming gift years ago and I removed cobwebs from the kitchen ceiling and window wells.

Then I took down the cute cast resin face-of-nature or Green Man piece off the wall over the stove… and picked all the cobwebs, spiderwebs, and dead bugs off of it and washed it. I wiped the remaining detrius off of the wall behind the stove. I wiped the stove and the ‘counter’ next to it free of dead bugs and all the other crap that came off the wall. I tried to actually wash the wall itself, but it doesn’t get clean, it just peels paint off all over the stove. Where I cook food. Food I actually eat.

My house is so gross. Seriously. Dude.

I took the load out of the useless dryer and hung it up, and put the bathroom laundry into the washer… where it still sits, since it’s raining out and the nine feet of laundry line I do have in the laundry room is occupied by the previous load of clothes and will be until tomorrow.

I cleaned both toilets.

I made myself a pot of mulligitawny and ate a bowl of it.

I ate a container of yogurt I’d bought to be served in the soup but couldn’t be used for that, due to it not actually being “plain” as the label proclaimed. (It was sweetened. Every container of yogurt I’ve ever bought that said “plain” on it was in fact plain. This yogurt was unflavored but it was sweetened.) It was pretty good, actually, but useless as a condiment in middle eastern soup.

I drank half my water for the day. I took a handful of supplements.

I walked around the house looking for Stella, who was hiding from the thunderbumpers.

I stared through a window at the rain.

I ate half a box of Junior Mints.

Hmm. Only two o’clock.

…
I realized that I’d never actually seen the end of the final Matrix movie, so I popped it into the player and watched it while thunderstorms crashed outside.

Stella inserted herself under the coffee table at the end of the couch and shivered and panted.

The score that played over the final credits is a blown house-bhajan-techno-symphony thing that I rather dug. I was shocked, however, to notice that the choir was singing in Sanskrit, of all things. And a sloka that I actually know! (I only know about ten, so the odds of my not only knowing that a symphonic choir was singing in Sanskrit and knowing the actual words aren’t as great as you might think.)

Anyway, they were singing:

Asatoma sahd gamaya
tamaso ma jyotir gamaya

but being a white, legit-trained choir, they were actually pronouncing:

assa toe ma sad go mah yah

which was pretty amusing. Then there was a little house break, then some Indian chick busted out with the mad quarter-tones, then back to the choir. And the thing ended with OM SHANTI SHANTI SHANTI. Over a house beat. It was totally insane!

…
Brett’s home. I think I’ll go check him out.
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