Procrastination

I'm in the library, supposed to be studying, but The Brain is not cooperating. I'm not sure why, although I think it has to do with the fact that I didn't get enough sleep last night--and the sleep I did get was greatly subsidized by diphenhydramine which makes me feel like a zombie the next day.

Instead of studying, I came to check my email on one of the computers in the science and engineering library and then got sucked into some internet surfing. This is not good. This is why I don't bring my computer with me to school.

Anyway, here is a picture of some public restrooms on campus.



These restrooms are in the physics lecture hall on main campus. I took physics years ago, when I was completing my bachelors degree. Because I didn't want to devote two days a week to physics, I took it once a week on Saturdays from 9:00 a.m. to noon. There is nothing like having to get up at 7:30 in the morning on Saturdays to get ready to go to a physics lecture. (I actually made it through the class though.) I used to use this bathroom before class and during our mid-lecture break and I, more than once, trapped myself in one of the stalls (the one on the far right) because the lock on the door was defective. A few mornings ago I was reminded of this when I ducked into the physics hall to use the bathroom--and promptly trapped myself in the stall with the defective lock. Eight goddamn years later, the lock still has not been fixed.

There is nothing like the early morning panic of thinking you're trapped in a bathroom stall and probably no one will be by until just before the physics lecture which begins much, much later in the morning.



And this is the new cat, who may be named Saba or Miss Saba. We don't know yet. I got this extreme close up because she came over and perched on my chest yesterday while I was trying to take a nap. She is very demanding of attention. I think Dave and I got used to our last group of cats, the ancient ones, who spent most of their days still as stones whether asleep or awake. But not Little Saba-chan. She wants to play with her feather or with her string. She wants you to give her treats--not those ones, the other ones. She wants to climb all over you and sit on your shoulder and sit on your lap and jump on the counters while you're making dinner. She wants to see what's in the refrigerator when you open it. She wants to see what the big deal about the shower is. She doesn't understand why she's always on the wrong side of the bathroom door. She wants to look in all the cabinets and behind all the books on the shelves. She wants to stand under your feet while you're washing dishes. She wants to look out the front door. She wants another little bit of canned food so she can lick all the goo off of it. She wants to chase the poor house spiders and your hairbands. She wants to climb under the blanket with you and knead your arm while you rub the bridge of her nose. She wants some catnip on her scratching post. She wants to put her nose in your water glass and then have a drink.

Young cats are much, much different from old cats. I speak from experience.



And this last picture is what the sky was doing on Tuesday at about 5:15 p.m. while I was waiting at the shuttle stop for my aunt to come pick me up so that we could go to the studio. She trimmed a couple of bowls that she threw on Saturday and then I made her stay and glaze some of the 53 pieces (!) that I have sitting on my shelves. It was rather cruel of me to make her stay, but I have so much to glaze that it's exhausting to even think about. I've just fallen way, way behind on my glazing.

I'm almost as behind on that as I am on my studying.