Just staying on track again.  Hubby had an end of year rehearsal today with a meal to celebrate another year of playing music with the band for band members and spouses.  I always enjoy catching up with the spouses, but while the band is playing, it’s too loud to chat, so we wait for between songs to talk (very brief conversations).  I pulled out my iPad and began typing today’s words in Plain Text.  Plain Text is supposed to be configured to synchronize with DropBox and import into Scrivener.    Sure enough.  When I got home, I synchronized PlainText with DropBox, and my file was there.  I went into Scrivener on the laptop, clicked on Import, selected my file in my DropBox folder, and before I knew it, it was sitting in the proper location in Scrivener for Windows Beta 3.  I’d had it set up to do this, but I’d never done it before, and I hadn’t consciously planned to do it today.  That was almost 500 words for today that I hadn’t anticipated.

Here’s an excerpt from something I got tonight (raw first draft — may or may not ever see the light of day again):

With that in mind, I steeled myself for the worst as I opened the door to the lab and looked in. The lights were on. Someone was home. At least, I hoped it was someone home, and not a long overlooked vacant cubicle like in the history lab. I tried to shake off the cold chill I felt when I remembered that visit earlier in the day. I saw someone working. They had their back to me, but as I stepped into the lab, they turned to investigate. It turned out to be Marc, another lower level minor god I’d met in passing in the cafeteria a few weeks earlier. “Hi, I’m out wandering around trying to get a feel for how things work around here. Mind if I stop in for a few minutes?”

Marc stretched, “I’m kinda on a push here, but I also could use a break, so, yeah, grab a bench, and we can jaw a bit.” He turned his chair to face the bench beside his desk in his cubicle, blanking his data screen before he did so.

I settled in, “Yeah, you guys have been really short-handed lately. Did you know you’re due to get in a couple of new analysts this week?”

He groaned, “No. I mean, it’s a good thing, but it’s not, too. New people don’t know anything about what’s going on. Someone has to take time away from their work to show them how to do things for the first couple months, so it makes double the work for almost half the efficiencies for at least a couple of months.”

I nodded in understanding, “I can understand that. If someone could tell them or show them anything before they show up here, what would the most important thing or things be?”

Without hesitation, he said, “Besides the initiative to watch and learn, it would have to be the basics of finding their way around the HQ.”

“What if I told you were were going to take care of that second thing before you ever lay eyes on them?”

“That would help a lot. It would save us two wasted days at least, per lower level minor god reporting in.”

“Cool. What are all the duty descriptions for this lab? Do you have them somewhere?”

“Oh, sure, but they’re useless.”

“Why?”

He waved his hand dismissively, “They’re from, like, the Dark Ages or something.”

My shoulders slumped, “So they’re not even remotely useful?”

“Nah. Everything they need to know, IF they have half a brain, is in the Read File. If they have less than half a brain, well, they won’t be around here long.”

Interesting. I decided to let that comment slide and seized on the more interesting, and, I hoped, relevant, piece of information, “Read File?”

He jerked his thumb out the door of the cubicle toward a common area table, “Yeah. That thick pink binder on the table. Got everything you need to know to work in this place inside it.”

My excitement mounted, “Could I take a look at it?”

He shrugged, “Be my guest. Go ahead and let yourself out when you’re done. I gotta get back to work.”

I stood up, mumbled, “Thanks,” and headed toward the table where I sat down eagerly reaching for the large pink “Read File” binder. It had a cartoon taped to the front with different font letters glued to the front spelling “ReaD fIlE.” I paid the cartoon no mind and flipped open the binder to the first divider page, which also contained a joke. I shrugged it off and turned the divider so I could study the first section and found…Another joke. What? I quickly thumbed through the binder, looking, looking, but all it had was jokes. Years and years of cartoons and jokes. That’s when I heard a soft chuckle from the cubicle behind me. I turned in my chair and glared at Marc who was grinning at me, “You thought it would be that easy, didn’t you?”

I took a deep breath in preparation for dressing him down, then I stopped. I looked at the binder. I looked at Marc, who was still grinning, and I laughed. “Pretty silly of me, wasn’t it?”

He nodded, “I heard you got stuck with Mother Nature’s training program. I appreciate that you’re going to handle the orientation. If you like, I’ll find you when I finish this killer deadline, and we can talk about some of the things we need here.”

“I’d like that. Thanks.”

Shifting gears, it looks like Number Two kitten will be going to his new home tomorrow night.  Someone contacted me today saying they wanted a kitten for their daughter.  I called, and the daddy should be coming by the house tomorrow night after he gets off work.  His daughter is seven, and Two Cat will be a perfect kitty for a young girl.  He’s a snuggly, lover kitten (who just learned to sample things with his teeth tonight — that’s going to be fun).

Roxy went to her new home last night.  A nice young couple expressed interest in her, and when they came to see her, they fell in love.  I hated to see her go, but I know she’ll be better off where she’s the only kitty.

We’ve decided to keep Four Cat.  I’ve wanted to keep him since he was born, and that desire hasn’t changed.  Now, if he’ll just reveal his name to us.