On the Fleach

Monday, approximately 1130PM: Jenny found a flea on Bellatrix.
Tuesday, approximately 4:00AM: I woke up to Jenny thrashing around, and discovered that we were covered in fleas.

I've been reading On the Beach by Nevil Shute, and it's amazing. The gist: the story of six of the people living in Australia two years after World War Three, as the radiation caused by 4,000+ nuclear bombs in the northern hemisphere makes its way south. The main characters have few illusions, and it's understood throughout the novel that they are all going to die in the coming September.

I came home yesterday with flea shampoo for the cats. Lucius handled the bath badly, and Bella (as usual) handled being in, and covered by, water very well. That killed a lot of fleas, and afterward Jenny combed the kitties, and put what remaining fleas she found directly into a cup of the poison-shampoo. After that madness, Jenny needed a cigarette, and I poured a glass of wine.* We sat on the steps with our vices and our books, and I finished both of mine as Jenny went inside to shower.

It was a strange symmetry. In the book: a man sets things right in the yard before joining his wife in bed, where they intend to poison themselves. At my house: I finish reading my book in the yard before joining Jenny in the shower, where we intend to pour flea-poison all over ourselves. With our roommate Lisha on vacation, it seemed just as isolated as the couple's home in the book. Even though our problem was just a common flea infestation, it was hard to shake the feeling that This Was It. It was pretty moving, for a flea-bath.

After that, though, things picked up. We had to get out of the house (the cats were flea-bathed, we were flea-bathed; however, the house was still flea'd), so we went out to eat, and then to the store to find Die Endflohlösung. I called out of work for today, and we went to bed, comfortable with the knowledge that we'd be bombing these little buggers all day long.***

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*I'm noticing a pattern. A month previous:
Lisha: The laundry room is flooded!
Jenny: I need a cigarette.
Me: I'll open a bottle of wine.

**I'm at the library, spending time until I can enter the house. Which is in two minutes, so I'll wrap this up...

The Visible Limbo

Hey, you remember that time that I blogged about the death of my car, and my decision to be rid of it? Do you remember that blog about getting dumped by my girlfriend? How about the transcript of IMs, wherein Scott and I discussed our jobs and relationships? Or the one in which I told Neil Gaiman, in few uncertain terms, just where he could stick his last few books?
Of course not, because I NEVER FINISHED THEM.
You don't know (although you may reasonably expect) this, but I have a lot of unfinished drafts for this blog. That's why I invented my eleventy-billionth blog. From now on, I'll start blogs there, so they can be read unfinished. In the rare event that I actually complete what I set out to do, I'll paste it over here to make it official.

So if you ever want to know what's going through my head, check it out; if you want to read essays and stories with beginnings, middles, and ends, just hang around here holding your breath.