when a headache makes you take caffeine-loaded excedrin at 10 pm, something is wrong. so here i am, looking at this blog that ive mostly ignored for the last few months, and thinking perhaps its time to shut down for good. the blog, i mean. as for me shutting down, well, that will come in due time.
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i wish i had brought 'a breath of snow and ash', the latest installment in diana gabaldon's totally absorbing series. but noooo, i had to leave it on my shelf, tempting me from afar, until i finished this other book i'd been working on. not sure why i didnt put the 100 page rule into play on that one; i really lost desire to read it after the first few chapters. and now im stuck with a lingering headache and a wired and restless body - and no book. plus, im in orlando, thus the difficulty in retrieving it.
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ive come to realize that my life is a dead-end these days. i serve no meaningful purpose.
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i know a cat named jack, who has one of his back legs permanently out of socket. he was taken in by a friend when she found him mewing outside her office; such a sad little kitten. she offered him to me, but at the time, i was an apartment dweller and could not accept. hes grown now, still walks funny, but can hop and jump as well as the other cat in his house. i think that cat is special. however, i now have a cat of my own, named bear (lion might have been a more apt name, since he walks around like hes king of the jungle that is my living room). im amazed that i havent posted pictures of them (i also foster another cat, puppy) yet. remind me to do so when i return home (yes, i can tell you are eagerly awaiting them!) bear is absolutely the most loving cat i have ever owned, and trust me, over the years growing up, we have had plenty of cats - how many was it, deb? but bear wasnt always that way. when my co-worker brought him to me, his kids had named him "hissy-fits" because he (obviously) hissed and spat whenever someone tried to touch him. i despaired that first week, because nothing i tried would warm him up to me, no tactics could abate his anger at being swept out from under the brush, the last one of his brood to be rescued (or captured, as he might see it). after 3 or 4 days of living with him, he tried to approach me on the couch; curiosity was something he rarely showed unless he was trying to swat at you. i probably recoiled a bit and i definitely remember putting the small pillow (a huge obstacle for a tiny kitten) in between him and me, regarding him with more than a little apprehension. was he trying to get close in order to bite me? here he was trying to make contact, and i was afraid him, afraid of this half-pound, black and fuzzy furball. nevertheless, deb made a breakthrough with him and ever since, he has been the ultimate lap kitty. he actually cuddles. if hes not close enough, he will lean, lay, drape or squeeze through small spaces to do so. and so i love my cat bear. and i believe hes in love with me, too. at least, thats what he tells me.
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aha! ill put on some old little rascals. i mean, the gang with wheezer and stymie. bad sign to have a headache this late, even worse sign to want to fall asleep to the tv.