So waking up Sunday morning, all I really wanted to do was hide under my duvet, watch movies and wallow in self-pity. For real. Unfortunately, I have cats. Many cats. And with many cats come many fleas. So because the next two days were the only ones I would have to effectively deflea my house and all seven kitties, I couldn't afford myself the luxury of a big ol' pity-party. So I dragging my arse around the house, I gathered all the clothes and bedding and lugged them down to the laundromat, pulled out the furniture and vaccummed, check on the kitties that had been exiled to the shed for the last week or two and then proceeded to spray the ever-loving hell out of the house.
I swear, I felt like I was moving through water... just no motivation whatsoever, and completely irritated at having to perform such a daunting task.
Once I had the house good and toxic, I got the hell outta dodge with a small overnighter and my guitar and headed to a friends place for her 30th birthday party. It was a nice pleasant time, and I hadn't seen this friend for a while, so we chit-chatted and caught up. I told her about the show at the end of the month and mentioned that I was thinking of picking up a nice performance guitar since for all intents and purposes, mine is an absolute beast. I swear, this thing is pretty much indestructible. It's had it's guts ripped out, pickguard torn off, the nut is held on by the strings, the headstock has been broken off and glued back on, and it's been through a house fire.
This thing will exist long after people and even the cockroaches have been wiped off the planet.
Many years and many less stickers ago.
Being the doll she is, she offered to lend me her guitar for the show, and up until then so I could get used to it. Hers is an antique Hummingbird acoustic left by her uncle and it's not only in gorgeous condition, but it sounds beautiful. I'm so excited at the prospect of having a decent instrument to play, even though, in all fairness, mine has been a faithful companion to me for many many years now.
After some cake, some pictures and a drink or two, I headed out to some other friends place, where we had some drinks, played a super fun dance game on the Wii (not sure who it was more fun for though.. the girls playing, or the guys on the couch watching). Headed to the basement to do some jamming, and I got to pick up a bass and tool around with it. Apparently I am 'part of the madness' now. Haha. I was appreciative of being able to spend some time with a good group of friends. It really helped pull me out of the funk I had spent most of Sunday in.
Monday morning brought a lot of coffee, the traditional hangover breakfast and then home to give seven cats seven flea baths. In all, I think I sustained two injuries with no significant blood loss, so that was a bonus. The kittens were easy, not having any real concept of water at this point. Spartacus, the big old beast, proved most difficult, having greater fear, greater strength and greater surface area than the rest of the cats.
Once I completed the baths and had all the cats in the house I headed into town for Kickboxing. The store was closed so we did our lesson in the park, which is a neat experience if you can manage to avoid the biting insects and gooseshit.
So yeah.. It feels like i haven't stopped, and frankly I don't see it ending until school starts again.