A Jetlagged, Prickly Pear of a Kitty

So. I'm back home safe and sound (as of last night, about 10:45 p.m.) from my most-recent Big Adventure (to the Pacific Northwest), only to find myself thrown most unceremoniously back into the fray, as it were. Did "life" have the basic decency to grant me a little reprieve, kinda letting me ease back into the groove? Um, no. [Cue crazed/maniacal laughter.] Not even close.

Paperwork is stacked up several inches high. A half-dozen orders were waiting for me to pack and ship. (As in today, chop-chop, whatdoyoumeanyouhave "jetlag"?!?) More taxes are due. (Taxes are always due.) Payroll is past due. I don't think I'm actually behind on any bills... but I better check; it's just tempting fate to say that I'm all caught up, you know?

To top it all off, my house is a wreck. One man and one cat, left to their own devices for a measly 5 days, can wreak utter and absolute havoc on what was previously a more-or-less clean abode. I am appalled, but this is good to know, I suppose, for future reference. If, say, I were to win the lottery between now and my next solo trip, I'd totally plan on hiring the Merry Maids to come by and tidy up a bit (a lot) before my plane touched down.

Of course, that would require buying a lottery ticket or two (thousand), bare minimum. Huh. So now I'm faced with a new (unexpected) quandary; do I really wanna go there--to the strange and foreign world of Lotto and Powerball and the hopeful folks who pick their numbers and scratch their tickets religiously every week--all for the sake of having a snowflake's chance of winning Big Money, or do I just heave a series of gusty sighs and clean my damn house?

Well, I'd rather throw away my hard-earned moola on something more substantial and satisfying than "hope" any day, so I'm going with Door Number 2, TYVM.  Guess when it comes down to it, it's pretty much like doing anything else, in'nit? Knuckle down and do the deed... all while singing songs in my head--loudly, badly--about bringing home some turkey bacon and nuking it in the microwave...

Yep. 'Cause I'm a WOOOOOO--MUN. Now back the heck up and hear me roar.


  1. I can't believe how messy Boomer is. I'm just shocked. o_O

  2. Well, he IS heck around his litterboxes... and then there's all that fur, which migrates pretty much constantly from His Fuzziness. ;)

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