I'm talking eight full hours, baby!

And I've spent the day being quietly productive, or at least more productive than I have been of late. I've done two loads of laundry, including folding, in addition to my usual straightening and tidying routine. I caught up on my journal reading, and most of my email. I got to grips with sorting out an Internat'l Women's problem, which is a bit complicated and probably boring, so I won't go into it. I did a bit of studying.

I changed the newspaper under the catbox, used the dustbuster on random bits of litter, and cleaned the tub where the catbox currently resides. I moved the box into the tub last Friday, spurred on by the immanent arrival of a horde of party guests that I didn't particularly want splashing their way to the facilities. At the risk of jinxing things, it was a Good Move, as Calliope seems to be keeping her ass down and actually peeing into the litter like God intended. Perhaps all she wanted was a little privacy.

I even got inspired enough to pull out the carpet shampoo I bought a while back and actually use it. Our apartment came with two large woven straw and silk rugs (if you can call them that, but I don't know what else they'd be called). One is under the dining table and chairs, the other under the coffee table and comfier chairs. Both came pre-stained, and our party last weekend didn't help. I ended up chipping some embedded gunk out of the weave with a butter knife. Some of it looked suspiciously like red candle wax.

I know all about red candle wax stains. They are a bitch and a half to remove: I eventually solved my past problems with it by refusing to buy any more red candles. The previous occupants of our apartment never learned this valuable lesson. Or if they did, they learned it too late for our rushmats or whatever they are.

The red wax stains are much smaller now. The other, unidentified stains are pretty much gone. It was worth the effort, I think. They rugs still look dirty, but it's an "Old" sort of dirt, as opposed to "Slob".

I'm even going to cook up some pizza meat for Elvis when I've finished this, so we can eat pizza and watch my latest find at FNAC: Sex and the City, Season 2. Yes, I am well aware that the rest of the world has moved on to Season Years in the Future, but here in Mainland Europe it's just come out on DVD now. As far as I can tell (we treated ourselves to one episode last night. Well, two.), it took so long because they were translating it into twelve different languages, several of which I can't even identify. Scandanavian and Eastern European, would be my best guess. In any case, we're all happy now, I'm sure.

So now I'm off to cook some special pizza meat for Elvis, because he likes his pizzas adorned only with spiced ground meat and sauce. No cheese, no extraneous bits of any kind. We'll have the pizzas tomorrow, although whether or not I'll do homemade dough or stick to pre-made remains to be seen. In a fit of insanity, I bought some actual yeast, so it's possible. It all depends on how I'm feeling tomorrow, I suppose.

Tonight, Elvis is taking me out to dinner. I suspect that it's because he's sick of my patented If You Came Home Earlier, I Might Actually Cook For You Menu, which consists of ham sandwiches (with pimento pringles for that little extra crunch), hot dogs (which he might not adore quite as much if he realized that they were made out of turkey, which he probably won't because they are an italian brand), and Things in Cans (everyone of which has a creative, if not downright cute, name). Actually, I might make him a pot of stew or some chicken and dumplings that he can reheat next week, despite the fact that, despite all his raving about the last batch of stew, half of it died in the fridge while he was eating hot dogs and ham sandwiches because they were "easier".

Maybe I'll come up with something Monday. We'll see. I'll think about it while sauteeing, after I decide where I want to go for a late dinner tonight. And the time to sautee is now, so I don't miss any of Eastenders.

Life is good sometimes.