Process: paperworpocalypse

January 04, 2011

paperworpocalypse

It's a stretch, but humor me. I have to be prepared early this year. Next time I leave the house, I'm coming home with a month's supply of potato chips. I've made the office pretty cozy, but tomorrow's session will be decadent. Pillows, TV, incense, candles, and bowls of snack food scattered strategically. Plus every hour I'll give myself a gold star just for staying locked in the office.

Yeah, well, that's not how it panned out. I had a vision last night: replicate an antique chair entirely out of kraft paper and tape. I tossed and turned while scheming how my chair would turn out. The clock radio is set to the WRVU 91.9 which was fine the last week of the holidays, cause they chilled, but now it's punk, and punk is not the cool way to gradually wake up at 6am, especially on tiny crappy clock radio speakers. I hit snooze and try to sleep. I hit snooze and try to sleep. I hit snooze and try to sleep. Finally I wake up and have to get out of bed. I'm kind of grumpy because punk is not the cool way to gradually wake up at 6am, especially on tiny crappy clock radio speakers. I've overslept by 45 minutes.

I drink coffee, check email, and go for a run. Amazingly, I completed my run and even did decent with my pace. I come back, take the dog for a romp, watch him pee on his leash, and start making my paper and tape chair. It's hard. I'm doing a Rococo thing. I don't know why I'm doing it. I imagine it will look pretty whack if I finish it. I snack when I'm nervous, so I snack. I bought potato chips last night and took them to a friend's studio. I ate chips constantly for 3 hours as a reward for yesterday's paperwork session. I also bought a bag for today, but I'm holding out for evening.

Later I notice the dog got into the office where I'm doing my paperwork. How do I notice? One, the child gate is ajar. Two, the vet's business card is half-chewed. Nothing else touched. Kind of creepy, because now I suspect he can read.