I'm getting this post done first thing today (first thing - HAH! it's 10 am and the pitiful peons of the real world had to WORK today. Sometimes I really enjoy being imaginary) because I'm about to decend into a whirlwind of packing, sorting, forgetting, remembering, cleaning, cursing and laundry. We leave for Ravencon in Virginia tomorrow morning, early. Everyone in Richmond, you are warned.
Unfortunately, Severina and Scott are unable to escape. I am using base temptation to drag them into our hotel for weird conversation, bad Chinese, and whatever else I think of. Sev is also planning to stalk the wild geek boy to find a slave for herself.
The Husband is having mixed reactions to the death of the If. Rejection is never pleasant, even if it is a rejection that ultimately frees you to pursue other, more interesting Ifs. This little trip to Virginia will allow a side trip for If exploration. I think after that, the sting of rejection will be much less. This If is growing long ears and tickly whiskers.
OK, now I have to peel off a layer of cat, eat some breakfast, and dive into that whirlpool. And me without waterwings. Cats, I should like to point out, make lousy flotation devices.
Update: the particular cat glued to me (Bea) is doing this lip smacking thing. I'm watching. I never really thought about cats having lips, but I suppose they do, and she's smacking them in her sleep. It's cute enough to use as an excuse not to move yet.