My floofy ladycat wants her belly floofing and my floofy gentlemog needs his ears scritching. I am a servant to my demanding feline meisters. To them, I am a thrall. Indentured for life.
I released some smoke from my favourite amp and haven't got round to replacing the sorry, wizened, screen resistor yet. In order to preserve its feelings, I haven't cast it aside and played through any of its lesser brethren. I am required to wear a hair shirt in pennance for my wiring error while modding.
I've had beerflu. Twice.
I want to regress.
The planets are not aligned in my favour, and being an asparagus with the moon rising in my house of bile, it'd be an inauspicious time.
My stockpile of round tuits is low.
In a rare moment of rational clarity motivated by efficiency, I decided to take both guitars to the shop at the same time. The new Tele is getting an initial setup and having the electronics checked out (probably a minor grounding issue), and the 50 year-old Yamaha acoustic is getting some much needed love and attention (and taking first steps in longer term restoration project). I'm left with my son's (very decent) Uke as the only stringed instrument left in the house, but I haven't picked it up yet for fear of redirecting what little mojo I have into the wrong place.
I'm really looking forward to the results, but in the meanwhile, I'm wondering WTF I was thinking sending both off at the same time. Maybe I just need another one just to avoid situations such as these. I didn't realize I'd be jonesing this hard.