I think I'm nesting. Pregnant women do it just before the baby arrives, I'm told. They scurry around, happily cleaning and getting ready. It's an antsy-ness that just cannot be stopped.
I, of course, am not pregnant. I'm not even spiritually pregnant because my Godson was born over a year ago. But I am most definitely rutching around (as the Amish would say), constantly moving things and tweaking the decor and placement of things here in this apartment. And is is so satisfying. I've actually canceled social plans just to spend more quality time with my apartment. :-)
You would think that I was getting ready for something. Or that somebody special was coming to visit. Or maybe I'm just making up for the 3 years that I've lived here and didn't do so much as hang a single frame on the wall. (Well, OK, maybe I hung two.) Or, most likely, it's that I finally have the time to begin big projects that take a few days to complete.
I think I am getting ready to welcome a bird into my home -- or possibly two, if they're small. What I really desire to love next is a beautiful, plump white dove. But she seems to be quite hard to come by, as all my phone calls to pet stores have been fruitless. The only other bird that has caught my eye has been the Nutmeg Spice Finch. They are excellent singers, but their fast-flapping wings make me a bit nervous because I perceive them to be so; and, in empathy, I end up taking on that emotion. It is quite silly, but it is true!
Well, I must go. The desk in my bedroom is calling for me to put him in a different room entirely. If my can of paint hadn't dried up, I bet he'd be asking for a new hue, too.