So Leslie over at Nake-Id Knits thinks it is appropriate to show our working spaces. I will not show the floor, but this is the desk. I hope the type is legible. I don’t yet understand how to do the sizing of type on web photos.
What is missing from this scene is 19.5-year-old Little Bit:
She’s upstairs. This is what she looks like when my attempts to work interfere with her naps. Notice that she is in the process of moving the Wacom tablet off the desk to make more room for herself. Nineteen-plus years come with certain privileges.
In addition to doing taxes, bill-paying, bookkeeping, and other things that are necessary but create more than the usual chaos on my desk (and in my brain), we’ve been learning how to provide Ms. Bit with fluid therapy, which is making a huge difference in her energy level (she has both renal disease and hyperthyroidism, which we’ve been keeping under balanced control for several years). We’ve just given her 100 cc’s of subcutaneous fluids (my daughter is handling the needles while I hold the bag and we both hold the cat).
I could have been cleaning my desk instead, but the cat takes precedence. I’m sure she’ll be down soon to help by either knocking some of the papers onto the floor or sitting on the monitor and supervising.
Okay, back to bill-paying. Must. Get. Done. Then clear the decks.
Okay (again), cat has come downstairs and is crunching her kibble (prescription) in the laundry room. She’ll probably be here soon to help me clear the decks, ready or not.
That poor cat, bless her little heart.
Your desk is worse. I’m so relieved.