Kat Dancing

Well, I finally did it - allowed myself a day off of schoolwork in order to (gasp!) clean my bloody room. I have a floor now. Wow. And a desk too. And various small insects have been unkindly rousted and told to find their own bloody rooms. I expect I'm the object of much bitter complaint in Insect World right now ("It was such a quality area, dozens of hiding places and half-eaten food galore, and then what happens? I tell you, the government ought to do something about people like that.")

But apparently there is a nest of bumblebees hybernating in my wall. I find this mildly disturbing, especially since they keep falling out and crawling around on the floor (now that I have a floor) looking dazed and confused and generally bumbly. I wish they wouldn't.

And, satifyingly, once I'd cleaned up and gotten a suitably large pile of paper trash, I got to take it out back and burn it. Thank God for living in the country. Housework would be even less appealing if there wasn't that promise, that Holy Grail, of getting to set fire to something when I'd finished.