Tagged: cat
Cats. Shut up. Please.
So I started this new kick. Being positive. Because I realized that I have become a rather temperamental be-yotch lately. Which I don’t mind so much, but I’m even starting to piss off myself with my grouchiness. Therefore, I’m attempting.
Unfortunately, it seemed like everyone else around me was having bad days and being cranky, which is hard to overcome. And then there’s my stupid wrist, which is more crampy than it was before I went to the doctor and started wearing the damn brace, and then the rest of my arm started hurting too from overcompensating. And thanks doc, I know you said I was cleared to work with a brace, but have you ever tried to grab boxes coming down a moving conveyor belt, jiggle them around under a half-broken scanner and then place them perfectly tetris-style in a plastic igloo without the use of the thumb on your dominant hand? I was hoping my left arm would become magically useful and I would move into ambidextrism, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. It’s either very stubborn or it takes a lot longer than a week to teach one’s moronic digital half to pick up the slack.
Just call me gimp.
This is where I expect my cats to “poor you” me. But no! They still want to be fed. In fact, they seems to want to be fed more than usual. The non-winter Florida winter is making them ravenous. And I refuse to feed them more than they’re suppose to be fed. So guess what happens? MEOWING. SO MUCH MEOWING.
Usually it’s just Taco being a loud a-hole, but now Moosh is getting into the act with his high pitched MEEEEs. I came home from work tonight craving quiet, and Taco meowed for (and I’m NOT exaggerating here) a half an hour straight. At some point he was so worn out from meowing at me he actually stopped following me around and laid down to meow at me. They certainly weren’t starving. There was food in the food island. They know how to get it. Both of them. I guess it’s not as good as when you’re SERVED food.
Taco’s finally shut up, although he has a new, weird obsession with eating my clutch purse. The boyfriend is home and we’re sitting in football-induced silence, and it’s lovely. Yay.
Meowwy christmas!
Missing an opposable thumb. Feel like a cat.
I haven’t posted in awhile, one, because I haven’t had much to say. Since I work at Big Brown, my work days are getting a bit longer with all the shipping going on (I HATE peak season). Two, as of Friday, I am wearing a brace on my right hand (and I’m right-handed, so convenient) to disallow use of my thumb. I’m super injury-prone anyway, but I’ve been tearing my my body at Big Brown for almost 13 years now and I ain’t as young as I used to be. Things ache more and don’t heal as fast. I’ve been ignoring a pain in my wrist for a few months now, but it got to the point I finally went to have it checked out. It’s not horrible, but it’s getting worse, and Big Brown take your word for it. It’s a good thing I’m not a doctor, because I thought it was tendonitis in my wrist. Turns out I have a sprained thumb. Apparently if sprains don’t get to heal, they stick around. So typing isn’t fun. And you should see my handwriting.
So now I know how my cats feel. I can’t even put a bra on without a production. I’m supposed to try not to use it at all and then tomorrow I get to go see how well I can hurl around boxes.
Anyway, that’s that. I was nominated for an awesome blog award, and I promise I will get around to appreciating that in here. But for today, I’m going to rest, and let the boyfriend do the heavy lifting while I watch football.
Which one is real?
I doubt cats would approve of Black Friday.
Everyone’s got an opinion on Black Friday. I don’t bother with it. I have to work at my day job, anyway. I think the shopping is kind of ridiculous, I mean, I even have the night off from UPS. I COULD work, but I get paid for being off, and I despise working there (the work itself is fine, it’s just full of a-holes), so I feel my mental health is not worth the double pay.
These boys don’t know how good they have it.
I know I’m probably in a better position than most. I have two jobs when a lot of people don’t even have one (but it’s not like, nepotism, I work hard to ensure my employment status remains solid). Yeah, my cats are expensive lemons, but I realize they’re not nearly as expensive as children. So maybe if I was counting pennies that closely, I would be more apt to wait in line at ungodly hours to get a good deal. I’m not rich. In fact, I’m a shopaholic. I don’t save enough. I like to buy things. I like to buy things way too much. But I also work an awful lot to afford whatever luxuries I enjoy.
But here’s what I think.
I don’t care. I don’t care how good of a deal it is. Just like choosing to not work for double pay, I can’t possibly imagine that there is a deal good enough for me to brave crowds. Crowds of PEOPLE. You know what I really hate? Waiting. I have no patience. I like efficiency. I can be in and out of a grocery store in 15 minutes. I don’t try on things at stores, I only buy things I know will fit or that I know I can alter to fit. And frankly, I’d rather pay the extra money.
This may shock people, but I don’t shop at Wal-mart. Ever. Why? I don’t like their business practices. I don’t like the way they treat employees. I don’t like what they do to small businesses. And honestly, have you SEEN the people that shop there? I feel dirty just walking in one. I don’t need a deal that bad. So yeah, you know, I could probably quit my hated part-time job if I pinched pennies and got the lowest price everywhere. I guess I just take “caveat emptor” a little farther than most. I don’t want the big box stores of the world to be my only option.
To anyone reading this that frequents that store, it’s not my intention to offend. I just hope that you think about who’s getting your money.
Here comes the pitch: shop Small Business Saturday. I challenge you to spend your Saturday shopping ONLY at local businesses. You’ll help your local economy, you’ll help the little guy, and most of all, you might find out that the guy who owns the hole-in-the-wall pet store has some really amazing advice. You might pay a little more. But I’ve found some jewels trying to avoid PetSmart. Nothing against PetSmart employees, but most of them are there for a paycheck. You’d be amazed at what you can find when you check out businesses that are in business solely because they truly care about what they’re shilling. They’re actually knowledgeable about their products. People who do what they love are inspiring…when that rubs off on you, it’s worth whatever you would have saved shopping with the giants. I know I’m old fashioned. Sometimes I want to have kids just to force my old fashionedness on them. Dying breed, we are.
Maybe you wanna hire this guy? You know someone’s passionate about what they do if they go to this much trouble.
I find it slightly ridiculous that “Small Business Saturday” is sponsored by American Express, but you know, it’s a damn good idea. And you don’t have to use your Amex to partake. So don’t.
And if you’re feeling really snazzy, make your presents this year. I am. I might even make the cats presents. Maybe I’ll finally get around to making that cat tree.
Catsgiving ranting.
I’m such a crotchety old lady. I think Thanksgiving is kind of a fraud. I mean, we’re essentially celebrating pilgrims taking over the land from the native americans, except for this one day they supposedly got together to eat this big meal and play nice.
I’m not buying it.
It’s just a transition between halloween and christmas and a way for us to justify eating mass quantities of food.
I’m also not into the whole “let’s all give thanks” thing. Why don’t you do that all year? You need a holiday where you gorge yourself to remind you to be thankful of the things in your life? What about the rest of the year?
Plus, as a vegan, it’s really quite a painful holiday for me. If I want the thanksgiving dinner experience, I have to make everything myself. From scratch. I always feel like I’m putting everyone out if I’m invited somewhere.
Don’t get me wrong. I love green bean casserole and stuffing and mashed potatoes…but they don’t make vegan cream of mushroom soup. So I gotta make that too.
Furthermore, there are bittersweet memories attached to thanksgiving for me. 4 years ago, it was the last good day our kitten Jager had before he got really sick. I remember that we thought maybe he was making a comeback, he gobbled up the turkey we gave him and almost seemed OK. As humans, we innately search for connections and want to believe things are connected when they’re really just coincidences, so I don’t believe there was some “thanksgiving magic” that made him vaguely healthy that particular day…but I’ll always remember it. I AM thankful that we had one last really good day with him. But he was just a baby, and I will never forget how much it hurt when he didn’t get better and we had to…you know.
Still miss ya, lil baby!
Now that I’ve done my venting, I’ll take this time to, like everyone else today, tell you what I AM thankful for. But I try to be thankful for these things every day. I don’t always succeed at that, because I am a crotchety old lady, but I remember most of the time. So without further adieu, here are the things I am immensely grateful for, in no particular order:
- The boyfriend
- The mom
- The dad
- The stepmom
- Taco
- Moosh Moosh
- LOLcats
- WholeFoods’ vegan cupcakes
- Chocolate in general
- My employment, even if it’s at one job I love and one that I hate
- My brains (I guess my DNA?)
- My self-esteem
- My friends
- Football
- Beer
- My success at not smoking on weekdays for over a month
- And a bunch of other stuff.
Happy Catsgiving!
Here are some pictures of cats. Because I’m lazy.
Cute picture dump day. Brain doesn’t feel like writing. Must concentrate on football.
You remember how I like #catwang? Well, now there’s #imaunicorn. Yeah. It’s awesome.
- Moosh sleeping on furniture meant for him!
Even devils look like angels when they’re sleeping.
Too tired to even lift his head.
SO CUTE SLEEPING!
Never a dull day…
Cats really make life interesting.
I mean, who knows how bored I would be without them? For example: Tuesday, I had a few minutes to sit on my ass in between work and the gym and more work. Taco was such a dear that he vomited food all over our comforter again! Stripping the bed and tossing it all in the wash (after removing the food particles, of course) was such a PERFECT alternative! Because I have a lot of time to do laundry several times over.
You’re welcome for the clean bed to sleep on.
I suppose it was better that I saw it rather than the boyfriend NOT see it and lay in it (it was all on his side of the bed), but cleaning up kitty puke is never my favorite chore. My mom’s cats (also my cats) puke on her bed all the time. Now I understand how she feels.
I’m starting to think that perhaps I should just cover every surface in plastic like an old lady. I mean, the couches are already covered in puppy pads and our mattress has a waterproof case on it (we bought a new, very uncheap new mattress not that long ago and decided for that sort of investment we should guard against possible Taco pee, even though he’s never done it there. So far, though, it’s only been tested by me falling asleep holding a beer. It worked. Phew.) so we might as well just take the extra step to encase it all. Shrink wrap?
Can you spot what’s wrong with this picture?
I love my boys and all, but don’t they know that I don’t get paid for cleaning up after them?
The question of the day: Did the cats miss us?
Unequivocally, yes.
Too much, in fact. I was pleased to be greeted by both boys. I dropped the boyfriend off at a friend’s house (prior plans, but I just wanted to go home) so I am currently the only target of affection.
LOOOOOOOOOOVEEEEEE
So much affection. Taco has followed me meowing for 3 fulls hours now. Everywhere I go, there he is. It’s ridiculous. I mean, I’m glad they weren’t mad at us for having left them for 3 days but I didn’t expect that Taco would be so concerned upon my return that I would leave again. Moosh has been lovey but modestly so, especially in comparison to Mr. Attached To Mommy’s Hip.
This was my greeting. Plenty of meowing as well.
I missed my babies too. My mom totally spoiled them. There’s so much food in their bowls they could eat for a week. This is why her cats are overweight. She’s always very concerned about kitties going hungry. She worries about this with humans, too, which is why she brings me vegan cake all the time, usually right when I have sworn to eat healthily (even though being vegan, my food intake is generally on the healthy side, except for my weakness for french fries).
But I do really appreciate her feeding them and checking on them each day. Who knows what kind of trouble they would have gotten into otherwise? My puke-soiled duvet cover is in the dryer as we speak, and if that’s the worst that happened, I’m vaguely ok with that.
We both work two jobs…you’d think they’d be more used to us NOT being home.
Beach view
Either way, I’m glad to be back, even though it feels like I never left. In case you’re wondering, Ft. Myers Beach is a very lovely destination. I don’t know what it’s like for spring break or during the summer but it was mostly older people and Germans. I don’t know why that area attracts a plethora of Germans, but MAN, is it ever full of them. I wish the weather had cooperated a bit more, but it was pretty and it’s always nice to get away with the boyfriend.
While the cat’s away…the…um…cats will play.
We’ve been gone one day. One.
That is exactly how long it took Taco to get to what I THOUGHT was an unreachable place (about head-high on a wire baker’s rack), grab a bag of treats (that I JUST bought yesterday), drag them upstairs ONTO our bed, shred the package, eat all the treats, and puke twice. On the bed.
Thank you to my mother for appreciating my worry that the cats would make trouble while we were gone and investigating even though there was no immediate sign of trouble. Mommy instinct is apparently live and well in our genes. And thank you for cleaning the puke off the comforter, even though I know you’re used to it with your own boys at home.
I mean, really? Taco, C’MON, MAN!
Lady, you ain’t leavin’.
Off to the beach…without the kitties *gasp*
The boyfriend and I are taking a minitrip. We’re not going far (we live in Florida, after all) but it will be away from the boys. Although they will be cat sat by a most dependable kitty mommy (my own) I worry about the trouble these boys will get into. It was suggested to me that perhaps my cats aren’t really as weird as I think they are, that I’m such a crazy cat lady that I watch them more closely than normal people watch their cats.
This may be true. But part of the reason I watch them so closely is because I’ve had so many crazy incidents when I don’t. Normal people’s cats don’t eat the handles off garbage bags. Taco is seriously a bad toddler who does things merely to get attention. Actually, now that I think about it, he’s at his worst when he’s right in front of my face. THAT’S when he uses his reserve of “bad cat.” Just a second ago he started batting at the laptop cord that’s sitting next to me. It’s normally well within his reach and he doesn’t bother with it. Now it’s something that he can demonstrate his brattiness on with an audience.
So maybe they’ll be fine. They tend to half-hide from my mom anyway. For two cats who have never known anything but love and affection from everyone that’s ever come in contact with (and considering that the two people that come in contact with them most often sometimes use them for their own amusement), their aversion from people other than me and the boyfriend is baffling. Moosh will be good. At 4, he only feels kittenish half the time. He will, of course, miss “Mommy Moosh Time” but he’ll forget by the time we get back. I thought he would hate me the time we went to Hawaii and boarded him for a week, but he acted like no time had passed and he’d been at home all along.
I’m sure they’ll be upset that we’re not taking them along to what would be nature’s litter box (by that I mean the beach in general, it’s not like we’re going to some el grosso beach) but they’ll live, so long as my mom can figure out the litter genie (they didn’t have diaper genies 30 years ago, it seems).
Taco is currently putting his paw in my glass of water and drinking it from his paw. He has a giant water bowl about 10 feet away. I’m going to have to start buying sippy cups. Those paws have been in poop. Gah.
Avoiding the mews.
Today is election day. I’m nervous. So I’m trying to avoid watching the news. I dropped off my ballot yesterday (drive-thru!) so my vote is in…I’m worried about the rest of the country. It’s also the boyfriend’s birthday, but we’re not doing anything because Tuesday birthdays are really no fun.
So in the interest of distraction, I’m posting cute kittehs.
Moosh where he’s not supposed to be…
Taco after snatching a skeeter right out of the air. And promptly losing it in his paw because it was so tiny.
Taco stoned on calming treats.
Moosh furrin’ up my pillow
And that’s all until tomorrow, folks, when I wake up and feel as depressed as I do on Tuesday mornings when I see that I lost fantasy football AGAIN (only this is a 4-year sadness, there’s no “coming back” next year) or hopeful and appreciative of my fellow Americans. Fingers crossed!
MEOW hear this! 