Ugh. Have to be up early to thoroughly clean the apartment. So, of course, the cat woke me up at 1:06 A.M. and now I can’t sleep.
I am entertaining the notion of an early morning jog at this point. The knee still aches so I may have to settle for a walk. That way I can at least enjoy some fresh air and some nature. Starlight, the non-feral cat, is so crazy I don’t trust her not to jump from a second story window. So I manage to crack the windows but otherwise have little access to fresh air.
Just finished opening the windows, soon I will change the cat litter and it will smell a lot better in here. I love my cats but they are tearing up the carpet in my adorable apartment.
Speaking of my adorable apartment, I want desperately to stay in it. But the burden of student loans etc. means that I need to find a job to supplement the full-time position I currently have. I fear that rent will go up and that I will no longer qualify to live here. So I’d best think of something I can do somewhat steadily before April of next year rolls around.
This is the crap that keeps me up at night. Besides the Bipolar, of course.
My bouts of insomnia have been pretty legendary. I must say that some pretty good writing has come out of them if nothing else. I’m currently working on a potential local project, more details to come if it comes to fruition. Are there jobs for people who are consistently up between one and four in the morning? Because I would rock that. Maybe an overnight stocking job at Winco…?
Starlight just jumped at the sound of the sprinklers outside, and I jumped thinking Starlight was somehow the source of that noise. The cats are now ripping around like little maniacs because they think it’s really wake-up time.
Nutty. I am working on an essay about the cats for an anthology. I tend to see myself reflected in my cats’ personalities. Starlight, for example, exemplifies Bipolar disorder–she’s hot then she’s cold. The laser pointer or any other points of light drive her utterly mad. She can’t decide whether to play it cool or hang from the ceiling. If given the opportunity to go outside, she would be gone in a second.
Mona, on the other hand, is anxious and introverted like I am the majority of the time. She’s desperately addicted to her routines like an OCD kitty should be. She hides under the bed the majority of the day, only to emerge (cute and cuddly) at night. If given the opportunity to go outside, she would doubtless choose to stay under the bed. It’s a crazy world out there and she’s already gotten giardia and tapeworms from being feral. Citing the cruel and unpredictable nature of the world, she would like to remain a spoiled housecat.
I’m going to be so tired for the Ed Slavin annual memorial picnic that it’s unreal. The Union of mail carriers holds a picnic in honor of my dad almost every year since he died. My dad loved being a mailman. His dedication to his customers was unparalleled. The flags at the post offices in Boise were set at half-mast when he passed away.
Here are a few pictures of my dad. We miss you and we think of you often. How proud you would have been of your daughters and granddaughters.