i've been up since 5am (thanks west coast) rockin this mannequin. well, slow rockin...but all good. i know the exact thing i want to accomplish today, and as each step has failed to cooperate, it has given me time in my meditation room to fully develop the idea. it has grown, but only to the proportion that it was meant to be. unusual for me and my flights of fancy. i haven't needed to use my "prescription" yet, and have a feeling i won't. i've spent 5 hours and 16 minutes on this beak thing. and each prototype comes closer to what i want. yes i'm picky about the details...most of my work is about the details. diva is snoring (loudly) under the desk, and kitty is curled up in the middle of the walkway that i need to use. now, here's my dilemma: i am starving. and want more coffee (of course). in order to get to the kitchen, i have to walk downstairs, through the livingroom, through the diningroom and into the kitchen. easy enough. lord knows i make that trip too many times a day. HOWEVER...kitty has upchucked a year's worth of wet kitty food in the livingroom. there is no mistaking it - she/he was proud as punch and, with a right-angle ruler, a plumb bob and a laser level, got this stuff into the exact geographic center of the pathway through the livingroom. i saw it from the stairs and froze. then backed slowly upstairs, so as not make the stairs creak and wake husband. i didn't want him to know that i knew that there was kitty yark on the carpet. because if he sees it first (or so he thinks) he will have to either A) clean it up, or B)ask me to. and option B would be a stinky thing to do to someone. so - yes - i am a mean and selfish person when it comes to this. i admit it. i'm not proud of it. but there it is. in way of explanation...for 3 years before Kita passed away, i cleaned enough carpet to get the Stanley Steemer citizens award. 3 times a day, no matter how watchful i was...i could be found behind my trusty carpet cleaner. and it isn't just the shampooing part...that i could do all day. it's the, ummm, prep work before that. and people, i am just not that attached to this cat to forgive and understand why it keeps doing this to me. so i hear husband headed downstairs now and i'm waiting for him to use my prescriptive word. i hope he doesn't think he can just leave it there till i come down so he can point it out to me, leaving me with the choice between option A or B. the only way around this is to A) not eat, or B) tie sheets together and rapelle down the side of the house, go through the kitchen door off the deck and eat. (the same deck where little skunk got me). decisions decisions. i have got to learn to leave some snacks in my studio. L.