I Know, Right?

Definition of exasperating:  those days when every time we try to accomplish something, it’s one step forward and two steps back.  So here I am, on Wednesday of my first week of official [involuntary] retirement, and I’m armed with the best intentions, to knock off more items on my long-neglected to-do list.  Now that I have ample time, that is, and no excuses. 

The first item on my list is to sweep the bathroom floor and shake the rugs, as they’re full of kitty litter, courtesy of a recovering cat who’s temporarily quarantined.  But, I think, if I start the laundry now, that can be working while I’m doing other things.  Efficient use of time, right?  This particular load of laundry consists of the cloth slats of the vertical blinds that cover our sliding door.  But before I load the washer, just for neatness, I should cut off the bottoms of the two slats that our beagle shredded.  The search for the pinking shears is on, because I want to stop the slats from fraying further.  Half an hour later, after a fruitless search among my sewing things, I give up and cut the slats with some zigzag scissors stashed among my mountain of crafty stuff.  That done, and with the slats pre-treated with stain remover, I’m at last ready to dump them in the washer.  Then I think about the towel the bathroom cat has been using, that needs to be washed, and I go fetch that.  And then there’s that mat, and…..but at last, the washer is loaded and running, and I can go back to the bathroom floor.

I pull up the rugs and start in with the broom.  Our black Tasmanian devil cat attempts a raid into the bathroom to steal the recovering cat’s food, and has to be shooed away.  He retaliates by pawing open the rugs I piled outside the bathroom, scattering litter all over the hallway floor.  I persevere, however, sweeping up as I go.  A few minutes later, with the rugs taken outside and shaken, and the laundry well underway, I can take a break and make my protein smoothie, a new morning ritual. 

I’m loading the blender when the beagle goes crazy.  He’s not exactly of the adorable variety so lovingly described in pet food commercials, but he is loud, and his bellowing can be heard next door, even with all the doors and windows closed.  As I hurry into the living room to see what has provoked him, Cindy the shih tzu takes up the chorus.  “Barr-ooooo!  Arp, arp!  Barr-oooo!  Arp, arp!”  Turns out there was nothing to see here.  Who knows what set the beagle alarm off?  Possibly a neighbor cat strolled down the sidewalk.

With quiet returned, I go back to the blender, which I see is leaking milk.  Is the gasket on the bottom inserted upside down?  Is the base loose?  I hurry up and flick the switch, and after a few seconds, I turn it off and pick up the pitcher to pour the contents into a glass.  But I don’t move fast enough, and smoothie drips onto the counter and the floor.  The canine clean-up crew is there to take care of the spill on the floor, until I can get to the paper towels.  I swipe up the mess on the counter, put the blender to soak, and sit down with my smoothie to contemplate the day so far and plan my next move.  Gotta love the to-do list!

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