Restless

When I feel crappy, I get restless. I look around the house and I think ... "I should do something..." Today, I'm feeling crappy, and after taking three or four naps (I lost count), I started to think to myself ...

Bookshelves.

See, I like books. I have a lot of books. LOTS of books. Downstairs, I have two floor to ceiling five shelf book shelves and a fold-up bookshelf which are all full. I also have one of those fold-up bookshelves upstairs, too, and I still don't have enough shelves. So, I start looking around the bedroom. The next thing I realize is I don't have enough room in my dresser, either. I do a little measuring, and realize that the dresser downstairs will fit in my bedroom, I just need to pull the main dresser over a few inches. That'll solve another problem as well, which is that the t.v. is too low so I can't see more than the top 1/3 of the screen. So, I disconnect a few cables, move the T.V., VCR, and cable box over to the bed, pull the main dresser over, and then, go down and get the other dresser. Reset up the T.V. and all that, and then, hang some shelves.

I can only find four brackets after I get the strips screwed to the wall, and I think, screw it, two shelves for today will be good enough. I gathered up my stray books, feeling like a cowboy on the spring roundup looking for unbranded calves, and got them on the shelves. By this time, I was sweating out the poisons of whatever it is that's effecting me.

I'm still feeling restless and I'm trying to decide what the next step will be. Since I'm getting a new couch this weekend, I could break down the futon and take it downstairs and then bring my Laz-E-Boy up. Hell, I may even move the bookshelf that's upstairs and redo my corner office.

Or, I could put a hit out on Billy Mays, that goddam yeller on the Oxy-Clean and Kaboom cleaner commericals. Why does that fuckin' weanie need to yell all the goddam time?

Yeah. We'll see what happens.