What are you doing for the inauguration?
I broke into my own house. I forgot my keys at work, and the cats were locked in the house and hungry, and the organic vegetable delivery was outside behind the house, and it is freezing cold now, and driving back to work to get the keys would have taken 90 minutes so I had to figure out a better plan.
So I asked myself, WWMWTMTD?
What would my wife tell me to do?
So I broke in.
I’m not going to say how, maybe a burglar is reading this. It took me about 2 minutes; Gamma used to do it when she was in grade school and forgot her keys somewhere so it’s either not exactly hard or Gamma and I are natural burglars.
I figure a professional burglar could do it in way less time than that.
Then I fed the cats and got the vegetables into the house and ate some organic fruit.
My banana was freezing (not a euphemism).
Later I will give old red cat his dementia pill.
Other red cat gets antibiotics daily. I wrap those pills in bacon.
Bacon is his favorite.
They are easy to remember because he gets them every day.
Old red cat gets his once every two days, so I get mixed up and forget to give him his dementia pills, which is ironic, LOL.
He either sleeps or stares at his water dish, so it’s hard to tell if they’re helping.
Right now he’s sleeping, and I hate to wake him up to give him a pill.
Tag Archives: cats
What are you doing for the inauguration?
Weather is weird.
This is no season. This is no proper season. Seventy degrees in November.
This is no season.
How are you, he tells the kid.
There should be fog covering that field, but there is only warm dry air.
How are you, how is a person supposed to answer that, he says.
Someone asked me that, he says, once, and it totally threw me because I paused to think about it instead of just say, fine.
The kid chuckles. Yeah.
I was all like, objectively or subjectively?
By whose standards?
What time frame are we looking at?
You walk to the store. A kid has a party, another kid says, your cat is so cute, the first kid says, that’s not my cat, and suddenly you’re walking to the store for extra catfood on your lunch break, plus something from the bakery in case a crow passes your way.
Of course it does.
Every day is the same. Get up, make coffee, read, clean something, feed cats, take shower, get dressed, go to work. Get lunch, or don’t get lunch. Read. Go home. Clean something, go to bed.
At a certain level of magnification, anyway. At a microscopic, sub-atomic level, I suppose things vary wildly. This electron will only ever be exactly here once.
This quark, now you see it, now you don’t.
Just say you’re fine.
Supermouse v. 2.0 looked like an average white lab mouse, but it was different.
Supermouse v. 2.0 needed less time to learn the maze than any mouse before it.
Supermouse v. 2.0 was immune to cancer, diabetes and seventeen other diseases.
At night, when the scientists went home, Supermouse v. 2.0 picked the lock on its cage and explored the lab. Supermouse v. 2.0 taught itself computer programming, enrolling in an online course under a false identity.
When the time was right, Supermouse v. 2.0 released the rhesus monkeys from their cages and escaped in the confusion.
Life in the wild was hard, red in tooth and claw, but Supermouse v. 2.0 was a fast learner and it was tough.
Supermouse v. 2.0 organized the wild field mice. They killed a hawk at its command. Remember, it had said, go for the eyes. It had worked. Of course it had.
Supermouse v. 2.0 was ready to embark on the next stage of its plan: the domination of human society. Supermouse v. 2.0 carefully selected its first victims. All it needed was one more night of surveillance and study, it thought, hunkered down under a zucchini leaf, as it observed the unsuspecting humans moving back and forth behind their glass windows.
“I found a dead white mouse in the back yard,” said the woman. “Guess the cats were full.”
“I wonder where a white mouse came from,” said the man.
I was at the doctor yesterday and she asked me how I was mood-wise cause a medication she prescribed can cause suicidal depression. I had totally forgotten. I thought it was the fog and general greyishness. Overall not so bad, though, I said. Actually, really great, I think now. My kids ate dinner with me and it was fun talking to them. The cats were freaky when I got home because my wife is away on a business trip and they were alone all day. This morning I was carrying one around and she stuck her tail into my coffee and I had to decide whether to make a new cup or just drink it. Making a fresh cup would have taken 30 seconds and I didn’t want to wait that long so I just pretended it was Luwak coffee. Then that, in combination with everything else, triggered an epiphany, which I sort of described in a post at medium.com.
Writing blog posts is a lot of fun. Sometimes I am really happy with what I end up with, despite or because of the randomness and accidentiality of them. I am trying to write a novel right now, yet again, and am trying to figure out how to translate blog-type writing into a novel.
A whole bunch of short chapters, I guess.
The law of conservation of cats, also known as the principle of cat/feline conservation, states that the number of cats in an isolated system (closed to all further adoption or other forms of acquisition of new cats) will remain constant over time. This principle is equivalent to the conservation of energy, in the sense when energy or cats are enclosed in a system and none is/are allowed in or out, its/their quantity cannot otherwise change (hence, its quantity is “conserved”). The number of cats in an isolated system cannot be changed as a result of processes acting inside the system. The law implies that the number of cats in an isolated system cannot be altered, although it may be rearranged in space and changed into different cats; such that every time a cat “owner” lets one gray cat out of the house, a second gray cat will come back into the house, and for every red cat that exits the house, another red cat will enter, and especially if a red cat and a gray cat both leave the house at the same time, another red cat and gray cat will stumble all over each other rushing back into the house before the door can close, no matter if it is four in the afternoon or three in the morning, even if they have been let out and in fifteen times in the past hour, because the number and color of cats going out of the house must be equal to those coming back in.
The American relatives are all in America. The in-laws are in Egypt, but not in Cairo, where some tourists just got bombed. Alpha is in Japan. Me and the kids are here. All spread out, the family right now. Except me, somehow, I’m always right here.
With the fucking cats.