My book lies on the bed, vanquished. It was finished only with the literary assistance of two very large, purring cats who could find nowhere else in the house to sleep but next to me. (A house full of cat-friendly napping places, and Tenzing couldn't find anywhere to sleep except draped over my right arm.)
I am now on the wrong side of one-thirty in the morning, waiting for a cup of rosehip tea to finish steeping, and pondering yet again the question that's been foremost in my mind: stay, or go?
My writings on this site have lately been circumspect at best, but those of you who subscribe to various forms of the optional Domesticat Study Guide (emails, phone calls, seeing me in person) know that I've been out of state for the past three weekends in a row. On arriving home this Sunday afternoon, I realized that the house has felt oddly static this month only because I haven't been home enough for my daily activities to cause random items to move around of their own accord as they usually seem to do.
But getting home and staying here for a day or two has caused real life to pay a visit. Jeff claimed my car practically out of desperation; it has needed to visit the dealer for its periodic well-car checkup for some time now, but I just haven't been home long enough to make it happen. The cats are still luxuriating in having me home. If I sit still for more than a minute or two, at least one cat magically materializes in my lap. Much extemporaneous purring and kneading tends to result.
I even scrubbed down the master bathroom. Real life doesn't get more real than that.
I have the prospect of leaving home again on Friday afternoon for another weekend trip, and for once, it is just that: a prospect. Dare I even say, "optional." As usual, it's a conglomeration of smaller events that coalesce into the possibility of a road trip.
Maktub is playing another small, intimate little show at Smith's Olde Bar in Atlanta. Cover's cheap, the music will be fantastic, and if I go, I'll have finished up doing an interview/chat on Brian's public-access TV show just a few hours prior. Brian has made it clear in no uncertain terms that while he'd like to have me on the show, my absence won't cause the world to end.
My impetus for going had been stronger, when Jeff had wanted to see the Maktub show. However, Jeff backed out a day or two ago, leaving me to decide whether to make the trip down to Atlanta - or not. On one hand, there's the prospect of seeing a good show and helping a friend out. On the other, there's the prospect of spending a weekend at home with Jeff, and possibly making some headway on that wallpaper-stripping job that's been delayed for a month.
Decisions need making, and soon.
Perhaps this will all work a little better once I get some sleep. For now, I'll finish my cup of rosehip tea in the hopes of succumbing to said sleep sometime soon.