Stacy's mom has got it going on.

Today I showed up to work about 15 minutes late. I left the office for 45 minutes at 10:45 am to have breakfast with Lowenstein. I took my lunch hour at noon for therapy. But at 2:15 I was hungry and left again to get food to eat at my desk. Remarkably, I've been fairly productive. Busyness breeds busyness with me, I suppose. Even though I claim to prefer one project at a time, I genuinely can thrive on doing two or more at once.

I got an e-mail today from Warren Wilson, the last application I sent and the folks who wanted a book report. It read:

This letter is to confirm receipt of all of your application materials, including any transcripts or letters of recommendation. We have all of your materials.

Should I be concerned by the redundancy of their correspondence? I mean, was that second sentence necessary? I shouldn't be so snippy if I don't want them to hold it against me for having a typo on the first page of my manuscript. I'm happy to see that my transcripts arrived at the schools because the one supposedly sent to my own address hasn't showed up.

Therapy seemed somewhat pointless today, just as it had two weeks earlier when I went. I basically sort of just rattled off what I'd written earlier in my journal, along with some other topics like anxiety about moving into a new place with a new person, etc. It sort of just felt like I was maintaining. I've thought a couple times recently about quitting, saving some money, but then I think it's probably good to twice a month have a whole hour to myself in a 'safe space' with someone who's known me awhile and seen my process and know how I work. And usually these down times are precursor to breakthrough periods of self-reflection. But for now it sure seems like a waste of funds. Then I think about how my therapist doesn't think I'm crazy when I talk about mercury in retrograde or buddhist meditations on death. Then I also think about how I pay money to have car insurance. It's a "non-vehicle owner" policy. What can I say, I'm occasionally paranoid and even overly responsible. I guess going to therapy even when it's not mind-blowing serves the same purpose.

Speaking of self-improvement, tonight I start my Old Town class in Recording Arts. If it goes well, soon I may find myself hanging out excessively at SOUND's recording studio. I hope they have a black leather couch for said lounging. That's my only requirement.

Animal Farm like George Orwell

I'm "working late" tonight, which basically means I'm doing what I usually do at work all day except it's after 5 pm, because my class is at 6:30 pm right off the brown line Armitage stop, so it's easier to just hang out a bit here. So far I've read some articles on introducing dogs and cats into living spaces and the two most important things I've learned is 1) don't let them just fight it out because it will more likely end up in vet bills than a truce; and 2) Sophie could stand to be a bit more better trained. She knows the basic commands, just does not follow them well when excited or agitated which is generally her state of mind around the cats. She can be sooo spastic, and I don't really know what to do about that since it's a personality trait, not just a badly trained habit (though I know more consistent training would help). I know part of the problem is she needs more intensive stimulation and play on a daily basis, possibly in the form of an afternoon dog-walker. Why can't she just be lazy like her dad when it comes to exercising?

Right now the plan consists of supervised interactions and during the day while at work, the cats will get free roam of the house while Sophie is crated. I know it will just take time -- that's the one thing everybody says and so far they just haven't had it. Coming over once a week for a couple hours doesn't breed consistency. But hopefully a week or two of being in each others' faces will show some progress, possibly without killing anyone else in the household in the process.