* the Mad Tortie on my bed. Which I already knew, because she had nested in my hair and was contentedly grooming herself, and my forehead. This came to a short, sharp end when Odd woke up and started howling from his crate, informing me “MUM! MUM! SOMETHING ON YOUR HEAD! MUM! WAKE UP!”
* a pine cone that invaded the deck from above while Odd was eating breakfast
* my shoes set on the end of the bed, where they were clearly a danger to all present as well as being a CHANGE
* a dastardly Monopoly box on the couch
Odd doesn’t like change. AT ALL. Any break in routine stresses him, and things set where they don’t belong drive him into a frenzy of alert barking. (Laundry baskets, if not set in the armchair, are clearly Up To No Good and must be barked at.) He won’t stop until I arrive and touch the offending article to rob it of its dangerousness. Then all is well, and he wriggles in delight, sure that he’s been a Good Boy and Saved Mum From Incredible Danger.
I wish all problems were solved so neatly.
Today I am going to finish the short story currently eating my brain–it’s set in Clive Barker’s Nightbreed universe, and destined for an anthology. I’ll have more on that as it gets closer to the pub date, unless of course the story sucks bigtime. Which it might, I’m too close to it to see clearly.
In other words, it’s a Tuesday, and it feels very much like a Monday. Ugh.
*runs off to investigate sudden barking*