well i’ve been home for about a week.
i cleaned my room really well when i got home, emptied my suitcase, hung up all my clean clothes. it’s not a huge deal, but my room was a mess, with papers in it from two semesters ago. i felt rather accomplished.
my mom got a robotic vacuum for christmas. we named it bunny, as in dust bunny. it vacuumed my room for me. the future is here. my mom has it vacuum every day. it likes to get caught on the outer hearth of the fireplace, making a loud beeping sound when it can’t roll away.
i also picked out clothes i wanna get rid of, bring to goodwill or something.
it’s 1:45AM, i woke up around half an hour ago. now that i’m home i’m back to going to bed early, waking up early. at my grandparents’, it was the opposite. i can’t handle their crazy schedule of going to bed around midnight every freaking night. it’s like guys, i have to wake up in a few hours. they just don’t understand.
liz sent me more photos she had taken of physical photos at my grandparents house, which is such a weirdly low-tech-high-tech way of saving pictures, i know, but my grandma doesn’t have a scanner.
this is one of my favorite pics, because it is of both thomas, my brother, and my favorite dog my grandma ever had, keta:
i loved keta. i remember being really really jealous of my cousin once because my grandma took her picture with keta and not me. i was livid. i was like five, and i had a full-blown tantrum over that. keta was the bomb.
the sky was so light when i woke up i thought it was later, but it’s not, so i’ll probably try to fall asleep on the couch.
our cat ava is playing with an ornament: a popsicle stick painted red that says joy on it. we still haven’t taken down the tree. the cats have been pretty good with it, though they love when we put fresh water in the base, they think it’s for them to drink out of.
now that i look closer at the sky i see it’s cloudy, no stars, and that eerie orange color. i don’t know how to describe it but i associate it with winter and snow. i should sleep.
i don’t know why i’m such an insomniac half the time. i try to stay asleep but every small thing wakes me up. our dog sleeps in my room so she’s used to getting up later in the night and coming downstairs. oh well, she insists on eating breakfast in a few hours anyway.
and now it’s around 6:45. i slept the rest of the night away, mom fed lucy and walked her. i’m back down on the couch again.
watching ava circle the base of the xmas tree, looking for a nice angle to drink the gross tree water, i’m somehow reminded of something from a long time ago.
my aunt used to live on an acreage, and she had a few barn cats that were friendly. i remember one of them, a black and white tom-cat, liked to follow people around when they were outside, and he was following me around on that particular day, and i was climbing trees. i picked a pine near the end of the driveway, a nice tall one, a good vantage point to see whether anyone was coming. i was probably 10 or 11 years old then.
well i zipped up the pine with the stupid unthinking vigor of youth, and was watching the road for cars, when i heard a meow from behind me. i turned around, and in the next tree, looking dumb and calm, was that damned cat. i remember he was purring super loud, like totally proud of himself, his tail high. he started walking towards me on the thinnest of branches, and of course it started bowing down under his weight, and so i grabbed him, and carefully climbed down the tree with him. i inspected the tree the cat had climbed. he must of had to run half up the thing, it had no branches near the bottom of the trunk. so, stupid cat, or smart cat? i never know with cats. and it is that guessing that i like about them. i try to cultivate that same kind of mystique. stupid sarah, or smart sarah? i seriously may never know the answer to either.
well, it’s 7 and the sun is rising. i have nothing to do today. tomorrow i’m getting up similarly early (at 5), to participate in our store’s annual inventory. it’s fun. lol, i swear, ever year i do it, and every year i tell myself that the next year i won’t work it. and yet every year i do it… i’m going back to sleep again.