Tuesday

19 February 2019

I fed him at 7:30 this morning.

At 9:45, when I was making my own breakfast, he sat on the floor and insisted that if he didn't get fed again, he was going to pass out, and quite likely loose control of his bowels and bladder, and wouldn't that be a shame since Buddah had just pooped on the floor 18.387 inches from the litter box?

The entire time I was making oatmeal, he was begging.
I'm not a monster. On the off chance that he really didn't eat enough two hours earlier, even though there are two bowls full of fresh crunchy food, I opened a can and fed the little monsters again, because of course I did.

He ate three bites, sat down, and proclaimed the offering insufficient. To assure that I would have 3 minutes without a cat in my face so I could eat my own food, I gave him a few crunchy treats. He ate them, proclaimed that good enough, and walked off.

Feed me feed me feed me feed me...
At 11:45, he jumped into the chair and began working me for early lunch. He's not hungry, I know he's not hungry; were he truly hungry, he'd go eat the food that's still on his plate in the kitchen. But habit is a snack at 11:00, and he did not get that snack because he'd been given something just a little over an hour earlier.

I know him. He's going to whine at me until I cave in, no matter how long it takes--it will take until 2pm, when it's time for a snack--and he'll think he won. (And yes, he gets fed a lot. Minimum 5, sometimes 6-7 times a day, just to keep his weight at 12.5 pounds.) Every few minutes I'll interrupt him to remind him that I'm working and I really don't need the distraction...and he won't care.

And people wonder why I work at Starbucks so often...

Which I am about to do, because we're into the second draft of his next book, and he's not helping the process... You think he would understand that, but no.

Perhaps my expectations are too high.

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Just a little under three weeks to St. Baldrick's and the annual why-did-I-do-this-I-hate-being-bald shaving of the hair. I'm just shy of halfway to goal...don't you want to participate in my misery? Because I will be miserable for a couple of weeks.


Your donation is tax deductible, if you itemize. If you don't itemize, well...you get to help the kids while encouraging me to do humiliating public things. And isn't that the point? Making me do things?

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Speaking of doing things...I registered for the 2020 Hot Chocolate 15K in San Francisco. It's not quite a bucket list thing, but one of those things that if I don't do it soon, I'll have regrets. I can do the distance, it's the pace that's a problem.

I registered the Spouse Thingy, too. LOL let's see if he'll do it.

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We have reached the GET UP AND FEED ME portion of the afternoon. Man, is he going to be pissed when I get up and leave the house...

Come on...you know I'll give him something before I go. I'm that easy.



Friday

8 February 2019


Ok. I think we officially need to worry. They're going to start conspiring soon.

Thursday

7 February 2019

This never happens.

Yesterday, following the mass consumption of steak fresh off the grill--and they got as much as they wanted to eat in lieu of opening a can of cat food--they plopped down on the bed fairly close to each other.

Sleeping did not occur; it was a coordinated effort to keep the bed from being made. I swear, Max especially knows when sheets are going to be changed and when beds are going to be made, and he makes a beeline for the bed. If it's sheets, he wants to help, and by help I mean he wants to get in the way as much as possible and turns into a furry little crack headed monster, chasing fabric and jumping on it like he's just brought down a cow all by himself. If it's bed-making, he wants to stop it. And yet, he loves sleeping on a nicely made bed, getting his fur all over it.

I've given up trying to figure them out.

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I am a cold weather weenie.

It was 33F in the front yard when I got up this morning at Stupid O'clock, and I've been waiting, sorta patiently, for the temp to get to 46-47F . It's supposed to be a nice, sunny day and the rest of the week is not, so I'd really like to get a bike ride in. Between the rain we've had and errands that got in the way, I haven't been on the bike (other than a really short one last night) in a week. I'm falling way behind on my mileage goal for the month.

If I were not a weenie, I'd be outside right now, riding in circles around Dixon.

The Spouse Thingy is not a weenie, so he's outside mowing the grass. But that's also not at 14 mph, so he only gets 7 Not-A-Weenie points. He'd get 10 or so if it were a bit breezy.

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He's mad because I don't have my lap available for his use. I keep telling him we're going to watch 2 episodes of Star Trek: Discovery tonight and he can have it then, but that's not good enough.

Suck it up, cat. I'm busy waiting for it to warm up enough to go outside and play, and while I do that I have work to get done. And Reddit to browse. And comics to read. I have stuff, cat.

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Yes, I talk to him. We have long conversations, mostly about my failings.

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A little over a month to go, a little under halfway to goal...