After the Gonzales Cantata wrapped up a few weeks ago, I ran headlong into my Ph.D. at Penn. Dived. Plummeted. Note to self: if it ever transpires that I hit the national spotlight again in the future, try not to start an intensive college degree immediately afterward without some kind of vacation in between. I feel so behind at everything. My brain can't find enough peace to organize itself. Whither creativity? I can't even wrap my head around keeping the house clean.
Sometimes I stare into the middle distance and fantasize about moving to some kind of mountain-top or island lair with nothing but the internet and enough food to last me about a year. Maybe after about six months, I'll write some good music.
In the meantime, over this past weekend, we seem to have acquired a new kitten. She followed Matt home on Friday afternoon when it was very cold and wet. He might possibly have encouraged her, but only a very little. I made it worse when they got to the front door by feeding her and fussing over her and generally falling for her. Matt made "We shouldn't keep her" noises for a while, but it was obvious he was taking to her as much as I, and as much as she was to us. For two days, we left her outside (with food, a cat tent and heated bed), thinking (hoping?) she would go home, wherever that might be, but she didn't budge. I guess this is home for her now.
When I left Australia, I gave my cat Kenya to my parents, thinking they would take care of her. They didn't, and she disappeared. I've felt guilty about it ever since; Kenya was an excellent cat and one of my best friends. The new cat looks a great deal like Kenya:
Naming the new cat Nairobi after poor Kenya.
Nairobi meows like a Burmese, Jesus.