Nothing to say.
There's a blue sky outside. I just got home from an outdoor musical. It was lovely and funny and ....
I'm exhausted. I'm telling you that I have nothing to say. I'm beyond tired. I still haven't heard back from my gas/bloating doctor. Something is still brewing in my gut. I don't want to talk about my gut. I feel like a helium balloon. I'm ready for bed. It's not quite 6:30pm.
The cats are all relaxed and feeling great. I think Blitz had always had a painful gut before now. He used to groan every time I picked him up. He still groans, but it's different than it was, an argument not a complaint. It has no oomph. The last time I picked him up, he didn't even bother making a noise. Isn't that sad? To think that life was only ever having pain and a bloated gut and not knowing that anything else in life was possible. I'm glad that he's happier now. I really am.
The problem is that Blitz has been extra active lately, whacking Seth, jumping out in front of Teddy and scaring him, and waking me up, I suspect, at four in the morning, so I can fill his belly with yummy kitten food and treats even though I'm supposed to be weaning him to ordinary cat food.
Did Seth teach Blitz to move around nearly silently, but not completely silently in the wee hours so I wouldn't realize who woke me and then appear, all cheerful and purring, when I walk up the stairs? For the past three mornings, I was, bleary-eyed and exhausted at 4:23 am, but too hungry to go back to sleep. I made myself something to eat. Why not feed the kitten since he's here and acting so sweet? Look at his adorable self. Rolling on the floor in front of me. Look at Seth, waiting to be petted and hoping to eat some kitten food. Why not? Why not feed them now?
Somebody's waking me up at four in the morning. It's almost two hours earlier than I need to get up when school starts. But this is summer. I have no alarm clock in the summer. Yet, there I've been, sitting up at four in the morning wondering if I just heard a noise. I really should not feed cats when I get up in the morning.
Who was it that got me started feeding cats in the morning? I should feed them at dinner time. I should put my foot down. Can I remember to put my foot down tomorrow at four in the morning when I wake up?
No. If I don't feed them, they'll keep me up until noon when I really have to drag my ass out of bed and run my errands.
When aliens arrive at our house, they will assume, based on the natural servitude that occurs among the members of the household, that cats run our society, that humans are mere slaves put on this earth for the one purpose of making cats as supremely comfortable as possible. The cats even have pet dogs to toy with and tease. Humans are a mere instrument of whim. Water, kitten food, cat treats, cat beds, large cat beds that the dog is allowed to use when the cats aren't lying on them, sofas, pillows, blankets, and warm laps when necessary. Humans provide them all. Humans are encouraged to come and go but merely in the effort to bring in more cans of kitten food and cat treats and also to remove refuse from litter boxes.
Humans are allowed to sit on the cat's sofa, but that is the best positioning for long massages behind ears, under chins, and along the spine for good alignment. Gentle grooming of fur is also encouraged. The cat will inform the human when he's finished.
Yes, if aliens arrive on our planet, they'd better hope they are cute enough to run our society in this way, to make willing slaves of humans for their own purposes.
Maybe aliens already did arrive on our planet. Maybe one is dozing in the cat tree, languidly watching birds outside, and the other is stretched out on a heated padded lap.
Thank you for listening, jb
There's a blue sky outside. I just got home from an outdoor musical. It was lovely and funny and ....
I'm exhausted. I'm telling you that I have nothing to say. I'm beyond tired. I still haven't heard back from my gas/bloating doctor. Something is still brewing in my gut. I don't want to talk about my gut. I feel like a helium balloon. I'm ready for bed. It's not quite 6:30pm.
The cats are all relaxed and feeling great. I think Blitz had always had a painful gut before now. He used to groan every time I picked him up. He still groans, but it's different than it was, an argument not a complaint. It has no oomph. The last time I picked him up, he didn't even bother making a noise. Isn't that sad? To think that life was only ever having pain and a bloated gut and not knowing that anything else in life was possible. I'm glad that he's happier now. I really am.
The problem is that Blitz has been extra active lately, whacking Seth, jumping out in front of Teddy and scaring him, and waking me up, I suspect, at four in the morning, so I can fill his belly with yummy kitten food and treats even though I'm supposed to be weaning him to ordinary cat food.
Did Seth teach Blitz to move around nearly silently, but not completely silently in the wee hours so I wouldn't realize who woke me and then appear, all cheerful and purring, when I walk up the stairs? For the past three mornings, I was, bleary-eyed and exhausted at 4:23 am, but too hungry to go back to sleep. I made myself something to eat. Why not feed the kitten since he's here and acting so sweet? Look at his adorable self. Rolling on the floor in front of me. Look at Seth, waiting to be petted and hoping to eat some kitten food. Why not? Why not feed them now?
Somebody's waking me up at four in the morning. It's almost two hours earlier than I need to get up when school starts. But this is summer. I have no alarm clock in the summer. Yet, there I've been, sitting up at four in the morning wondering if I just heard a noise. I really should not feed cats when I get up in the morning.
Who was it that got me started feeding cats in the morning? I should feed them at dinner time. I should put my foot down. Can I remember to put my foot down tomorrow at four in the morning when I wake up?
No. If I don't feed them, they'll keep me up until noon when I really have to drag my ass out of bed and run my errands.
When aliens arrive at our house, they will assume, based on the natural servitude that occurs among the members of the household, that cats run our society, that humans are mere slaves put on this earth for the one purpose of making cats as supremely comfortable as possible. The cats even have pet dogs to toy with and tease. Humans are a mere instrument of whim. Water, kitten food, cat treats, cat beds, large cat beds that the dog is allowed to use when the cats aren't lying on them, sofas, pillows, blankets, and warm laps when necessary. Humans provide them all. Humans are encouraged to come and go but merely in the effort to bring in more cans of kitten food and cat treats and also to remove refuse from litter boxes.
Humans are allowed to sit on the cat's sofa, but that is the best positioning for long massages behind ears, under chins, and along the spine for good alignment. Gentle grooming of fur is also encouraged. The cat will inform the human when he's finished.
Yes, if aliens arrive on our planet, they'd better hope they are cute enough to run our society in this way, to make willing slaves of humans for their own purposes.
Maybe aliens already did arrive on our planet. Maybe one is dozing in the cat tree, languidly watching birds outside, and the other is stretched out on a heated padded lap.
Thank you for listening, jb
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