Tag: cats
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Locked Out
I opened the door for one of the women who works in the office down the hall, not to be chivalrous, but because she’d forgotten her card key. For reasons that have yet to become clear to me, all the doors in our office building are locked, and the locks can be opened only by Read.
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Sandbagged
I woke up this morning pinned down by a cat on either side of me, as I so often do. If you don’t have cats, imagine a pair of those worm-like sandbags you buy to put in the trunk of your car for winter traction. Now imagine them atop your bed covers, one on either Read.
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So Close
My Darling B has been in the kitchen all morning stewing a batch of chicken thighs in saffron and a bunch of other yummy-smelling stuff, in preparation for turning them into meat pies. After stewing them, she piled them on a platter, placed the platter on the dining room table, then went to work on Read.
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Bonk!
And again: Kitty! Because I wanted to make it up to you for all the political crap coming out of Wisconsin lately. We can do the interwebs the way it’s supposed to be done. Read.
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Bloodshot
After a scalding hot shower and a hot cuppa java, I think I may once again return to the class of warm-blooded creatures. Last night was about five million years long and it was all because the cat in the middle of the bed kept hogging the covers, keeping me awake most of the night. Read.
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Blearrrgh!
Bluh! Bluh! Bluh! Blearrrrgh! That’s how our oldest cat said “Good morning!” to me at four o’clock in the morning today. I’m in bed at four o’clock in the morning. I had been sleeping, up until the cat began singing his gastric antilullabye. That kind of thing tends to wake me right up, though, and Read.
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Wakey Wakey
Why is sleeping in late so damned tiring? I don’t know when to get out of bed, and when I finally force myself I can’t make my ass move any faster than a … a really tired, slow thing that can’t stop yawning. Sorry, I’m still half-asleep as I write this drivel. I can get Read.
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Little Squirt
I found Boo sitting on the end of the dining room table when I turned on the lights this morning. She’s usually waiting for me there, couldn’t be more obvious about what she wanted if she had a bib and was propping up a knife and fork with each paw. And, usually, I snap my Read.
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Ehhh! Ehhh!
Trying to think of suitable drivel to release upon the world is never an easy task; trying to do it while Bonkers the cat is squatting beside the grand exalted throne deep in the heart of drivel HQ going “Ehhh! Ehhh!” makes it even harder. Bonkers doesn’t go “Meow” like other cats. Bonkers goes “Ehhh!” Read.
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Out Go The Lights!
I’m still trying to sleep off the effects of this head cold I caught, so this will necessarily be brief before I have to go medicate myself with my hourly fistful of over-the-counter drugs, drink a pint of water and stretch out on the recliner for my early-mid-late-afternoon nap. My symptoms today are a lot Read.
This Is Drivel 