My Back Against the Record Machine

I haven’t checked my phone messages in over a week but I can feel my popularity pulsing at the internet phone message center like concentrated evil. Well, maybe not so concentrated. I doubt my popularity has much of an attention span, since Dom’s birthday present languishes in Siobhan’s living room and I haven’t seen Sharkey in over a month. Fortunately, Trout and I are spending some quality time together on Wednesday afternoons. We’re taking a three-week course of private yoga classes with a teacher who almost certainly served in the Israeli Army. I enjoy meditating while trying not to imagine all the ways she could kill me armed only with her bare hands and a stick of gum.

In his own way, Pete is just as much an obsessive fussbudget as I am. He is always mulling things over and thinking up another way or another project, which drives me mad. The words, “You know what we could do?” are my cue to plug my ears and yodel, “I’m not liiiiiistening!” Of course, I am listening. I’m also keenly aware that we both work two jobs and our time together is very limited. One foot in front of the other is the only way we’re embarking on our Iron March to Global Domination, so tap dancing is right out!

It’s Thursday, the day every week when I consider giving up the struggle but don’t. Which struggle? Pick one, I think of it. First thing this morning, I had a talk with me about the litter boxes and admitted I’d been doing a – forgive me! – crappy job of keeping them tidy. Madame Topaz and Mam’selle Drusy have been exceedingly patient with my lapses. Days ago, I walked into the bathroom and realized I was standing in goo and darkness, which I partially fixed by flipping the light switch. Aha! One of the pussycats had barfed up breakfast just inside the threshold. I stuck my foot under the tub faucet and turned on the water full blast. I did not at all hop up and down muttering, “Ew ew ew ew ew” because that would be childish. Then I cleaned it up. Now that I have kittens who knock glass objects off elevated surfaces and yak on my bathroom floor, Swiffer Wet is my best friend.

Sorry, Siobhan!

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