Today (from more than one perspective)

[desperance]

[My view]

Today I have:

* lain awake in a blue funk since OMG-early, panicking about everything;

* done some money stuff for other people;

* done some tax stuff for myself;

* arranged for my beloved plumber (who is actually everybody's plumber, and we all love him) to try to come around this week and just have a look at the bathroom floor, see if it's a job he might tackle himself [which I'm not confident at all, but, y'know: start with what's easy] (even though he is going on holiday - of course! - at the end of the week, so won't be able actually to do anything for a while);

* fumbled my way through seventy-odd pages of revisions.

[The cats' view]

Today I have:

* Shut Them Out (of the front room, on account of really not wanting them playing in piles of tax receiptst that I was trying to get into order);

* Evicted Them From the Desk (mostly because after I had finally lost patience with Barry, where he sits between me and the screen and his shadow falls across my manuscript and he washes, noisily, I had barely half a minute's leeway before Mac manifested in exactly the same place with exactly the same purpose);

* Shouted At Them Meanly (for various infuriating escapades, which ordinarily might have passed without shouting; I am, shall we say, marginally stressed?)

[The view of the universe]

Today I have:

* run out of tonic. Which is actually strangely worse than running out of gin: it's such a feeble kind of failure, and just exactly as devastating.