Jumbled Thoughts

There’s really nothing special about what I do (work-wise, I mean; obviously, most of what I do is so special you should all squeal once a day in my honor…) Think about it: I sit here and make stuff up. I get a germ of an idea, let it ferment, and sooner or later it spills out onto paper (or the laptop screen as it were.) Sometimes it’s decent, sometimes it’s not. Sometimes it’s so bad I have to save it just to be able to laugh at it later. But when it comes right down to it, I sit at my desk and spend a part of the day lying. That’s all fiction is: a lie created to entertain people.

So it kind of surprises me how people react to me upon introductions sometimes. If they’ve been made aware of my existence and chosen trade, I invariably get, along with the handshake, “You’re a writer!”

I have never overheard someone squeal “You’re a Proctologist!” or “You’re the one who sells shoes at Payless!” or “You’re the guy who asks ‘Ya want fries with that?’!”

I still find it a little odd, probably because I don’t find what I do to be remarkable in any way. Now the proctologist, I find that remarkable. Most people couldn’t and wouldn’t do that for a living. Just about anyone can write if they really want to. Being able to work the counter at any food establishment is harder than writing. They have to deal with rude people all day; I don’t.

I look forward to the day when I’m introduced to that person, the one who squeals “You’re the writer!” and I can squeal back, “You’re the town whore!”

It’ll happen…

Max went to the vet yesterday; he survived but made it clear to Dr. Stoner that certain things are completely off limits. Things like having his temperature taken. As sick as he was (and still is) he had enough oomph to make that certain.

He’s on antibiotics; they worked for Buddah, hopefully they’ll do the trick and make Max feel better in a day or so. He’s a bit more sick than Buddah was, though, so it may take longer. And before the meds are all gone, he my kill one of us in our sleep out of revenge. It takes 2 people to give it to him, and even then he fights so hard we’re afraid of hurting him.

Tomorrow Buddah goes to the vet to be tested for feline leukemia and feline AIDS. We’re pretty certain that what the cats have is a garden variety URI, but the vet thinks it would be good idea.

Fun times.


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