Woah. It’s been a while. I’ve been profoundly busy making plans for 2019. I haven’t actually been DOING anything. Just making plans. This is partly because I’ve been making great strides in my injury recovery and don’t spend my days praying for the sweet release of death anymore. It has freed up a considerable amount of time for imagining how I’ll
murder a number of people achieve all my hopes and dreams this year.
Niles has been diagnosed with kidney disease. Apparently this is typical in geriatric cats – he’s about 16-35 years old. He’s not in a kidney failure situation so I’m hoping we’ve still got plenty of time with our little nugget. We’re planning to treat him just as we did Effie – an enjoy-your-golden-days-to-the-MAX type deal. Want to meow at 3 a.m. in the stairwell so you can hear your song echoing at peak volume? Go ahead. Wanna sleep with your disgusting litter-feet on my face all night? Sure, little buddy, no problem. Want to avenge… something? by destroying every house plant we own? Fair enough. That Christmas cactus probably had it coming.
On the plus side, Niles hasn’t reached this level of living to the max yet:
Have I ever told you how much I hate shoes that look like feet? Just thinking about them creeps me out. Keep your toes bunched up and hidden like a normal human, weirdo.
Recently our doorbell rang and I ignored it because Saturday mornings are prime recruiting time for religious people. (Jesus, Donna, take a hint.) A moment later I heard pounding on the storm door, which was then opened. THEN I HEARD SOMEONE AGGRESSIVELY TURNING AND SHAKING THE HANDLE OF OUR INTERIOR DOOR. From the window I could see that it was two little boys trying to break into our house while their parents watched from the street.
Naturally, my irascible side made an appearance. First, what’s the end game, kids? I come downstairs in my pyjamas and find you standing in my kitchen? That’s how children end up in stew. Second, what sort of parents watch as their children try to break into a home? You tell the little crappers to ring the bell and explain the protocol for unanswered requests. YOU DON’T ALLOW THEM TO BREAK INTO THE HOUSE. What the hell is wrong with people? It took me two hours to calm down. Just kidding — I haven’t calmed down yet. I sit in front of my window all day waiting for them to walk up the street so I can throw garbage at them.
I got 2.0 a new iPad for Christmas and I’m still haunted by the sounds of his attempts to set up Siri.
This spring we will be digging up our front yard to replace our sewer main. I’d be upset about it but our entire neighbourhood is in the same boat so we’ve been expecting it for a few years. Did 2.0 and our neigbourhood plumber ask me what I had done to clog the line and then get a serious case of the giggles? Yes, yes they did. #poopjokesarethebestjokes
My cousin Alana and her husband Clive gave me an “old fashioned contribution” to my writing career for Christmas. It’s a thin, stick-like instrument with a beautiful rhinestone at one end and what appears to be a core of coal at the other. It took a few days to figure out how to use it, but I think I’ve finally got the swing of things.
Our enemy, Mrs. Rutherford, texted me last week to tell me that her car had been broken into. The thief left everything in the vehicle (including cash) except the box of tampons she keeps in the console. I put that in italics because: WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL? She was quick to mention that the thief left one tampon behind because — in her words — I guess they didn’t want to leave me stuck if I really did need one. Mrs. Rutherford has been a little stressed lately so I didn’t ask too many questions and pretended that everything she was telling me was perfectly normal and didn’t make me wonder what else she stores in her Nissan.
I’ve been Marie Kondo-ing everything in my life including the book I wrote during NaNoWriMo. As a result I’m turning my NaNoWriMo efforts into a neatly folded blog series! It’ll be like tuning into Days of Our Lives but without any love triangles and probably no one will get buried alive or possessed by the devil. I’m hoping to kick it off in the spring or summer so you’ll have something to read when there are no new episodes of Brooklyn Nine-Nine to watch.
Love from your most eager servant,