Another few days of duck-nibbling over here, and it looks like the whole week is basically a wash from a writing standpoint. The husband and I are, respectively, in something of a holding pattern re: a number of things at the moment - which is both liberating (free time! sort of!) and anxiety-inducing (what next?!). We're trying to make the best of it.

Today I signed a bunch of bookplates for Scholastic (WRT I Am Princess X), and got those all packed up to ship tomorrow; I tried to take care of some last-minute tax stuff, but hit a dead end and will have to go to the bank tomorrow and sort it out; I walked the dog twice, since his first morning walk was brief due to crappy weather; and I had a word with a Terminix inspector.

It wasn't an altogether friendly word.

Long story short, about a year ago we had our house "excluded" vis-a-vis rodents and bats and whatever else might find an unfinished attic and/or cellar appealing. Honestly, I had my doubts that such an exclusion was even remotely possible; the house is old, and the spaces in question are plenty drafty and appealing to four-footed and web-winged critters.

But oooooohhhhh, yes, said Chattanooga's local Terminix affiliate - totally doable. No big deal. Just give us money. 100% satisfaction/money back/wank wank wank wank.

We've called them back out here probably 8-10 times in the intervening year, due to (a). half-assed work, and (b). the Sisyphean task of evicting very determined rats from under the house - which like I said, I figured was an exercise in futility...but Terminix took my money and made some promises, so by God, I'm going to hold them to it or collect my refund.

[As an aside, I have an agreement with the rats. I live on a mountain in the Appalachian foothills, where -surprise, surprise - there are a veritable host of little brown wood rats. I don't actually have a problem with rats; they have a place in the universe, and I am at peace with that ... just as long as they don't try to get INSIDE my house. I don't even get too mad about them kicking it underneath the place, but when they start chewing up into the walls, that's when they get their wee tiny eviction notices.]

Anyway. It was time for our "annual inspection" of the wildlife exclusion service. This was conducted by a very nice fellow I'd never met before, and I may have hypothetically given him an earful. He's allegedly sending out his manager, etc. etc. etc.

I don't know. We'll see. But hey, if our house gets egged or firebombed or whatever, my money's on a disgruntled Terminix employee who's been hollered at by his boss. Let the record reflect this.

Hm. What else?

Well, in other news, the cat threw up on the bathmat again so I'm washing it. This is a chore because it is a large, heavy mat, and it *technically* fits in our washer ... but the washer chokes on it, and I have to run it a couple of times to get it through the final spin. Such is the glamour of my life.

However! She's been more or less sleeping through the night, courtesy of her Kitty Valium, and she seems to be doing generally well - knock on wood. So there's that.

Speaking of the cat - she adorably crashed a video interview the other day. You see, I was talking with the marvelous Lauren over at the Lytherus Book Club</b> about Maplecroft ... and some-furry-one decided it was laptime. Right now, dammit.

The interview is long, and the interview is spoilery - and in this interview, I look perfectly dorky, which is perfectly normal. Check out that screenshot, would you? But here it is, for your viewing pleasure, if you're so inclined to give it a go.




And I guess that's all I've got for now. Tomorrow we suck it up and get our taxes done, though I'm missing a couple of pieces of documentation which really should've arrived weeks ago. This is the curse of a freelance contractor, as some of you know all too well.

It's okay. I keep pretty good records. I have to, and that's something I learned the hard way.

So...good night, everyone. I'll see if I can blog again this weekend, but don't hold me to it. I may give up and go play video games and swill hot butter rums until Monday comes around again. It's a boozy first-person crap shoot over here. Not that I'm complaining.