Day four: still listening to a mix of The Magnetic Fields, 4.5 hours of work
Initially, we went to Ikea to get a new feather comforter. Mine is quite old, and the orange lover had peed on it several times. It doesn't really smell like cat pee any more, but it smells mildewy, and has a strange greasy feeling to it. It was a bit overwhelming to figure out what I wanted at Ikea since they had so many different options of feather blankets. I settled on a true feather one (not synthetic) that had a warmth level of 4 (levels are 1-6). On our way out we went through the light section. I love light pretty much for the same reason I love glass. I just can't get enough of it. However, most of Ikea's light don't cast enough to make it worth buying. Then I came across this little guy:
It's a very direct spot light on an awesome bendable stand. It's not flimsy at all, and stays exactly where I want it. Since I mosaic in the garage, I have the crappiest light for what I'm doing. I've been compromising on different light sources to accomplish my work, including using a flashlight to do back-lighting. This lamp makes it so I can at least shine a pinpoint of light directly on the area I am working on, and that made life just a little easier. It cost $30, but it was well worth it.
When we got home, The Boy went straight to the bedroom to drop off a body pillow he had purchased (he loves body pillows, to the point I call them his "girlfriends"). He soundly howls out for me to get to the bedroom, not in the way that made me fear a cat was dead, but in the way that let me know that it was something gross. Wikus was trying to get the orange lover back in the house, and I dropped everything in my hands since The Boy obviously didn't think I was running fast enough to the bedroom
As soon as I got to the doorway, the smell hit me. Sour baby poos. Evil-smelling poos. Poos that could only mean one thing, there was diarrhea somewhere in that room.
Remember how I went on about the wonderful new mattress we had purchased and the fancy sheets? Well, they were covered in diabetic-cat diarrhea. It was so awful. We were quick to blame each other for leaving Whoopis in the room all day, but I know it was The Boy. He was the last one in the room. He was still getting dressed way after me. He doesn't want to accept that it is his fault, but it totally is. I forgive him though, because he's the one who scraped the liquid poos in to the toilet and washed the sheets. I cleaned the mattress then Febreezed the fuck out of it.
Tonight I get to sleep on clean sheets and under a new comforter. It isn't a terrible way to end a hard day.
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