a Tiny description

a full time artist, stepmother, radio personality, and mom to an energetic Chug dog, tries to get through the days without committing a felonious act. My life is a rickety Zen circus.


Monday, July 06, 2015

I've been feeling like a little slug lately in the mornings. My INTENTION was to rise & shine and go to the Y for some Aqua Fit fun, but before I can even open my eyes, I remember that I'd have to shave my legs and walk the dog and blah and blah and soforth... Next thing I know, it's too late to go. I am giving myself gentle space, without giving myself permission to squander these gorgeous mornings. Henry has been needing so much excersize too...he's getting roly poly. And snippy. I'm surrounded by animals that have no appreciation for their above-average standard of living.  My cat (actually Not My Cat) has begun pooping on the carpet in big stinky messes that the dog finds tasty. If you're grossed out by that, imagine having to clean it and smell it every single day. And Purrl knows better...he is just not getting the attention he got when my husband lived here. Ex Husband? Estranged husband? Whatever the title, tomorrow would've been our 15th anniversary. I will have a cupcake in that honor. Next weekend is his final-ish move out. I say "ish" because who knows what odds and ends will be left by accident to ambush me in a weak moment? I was still having some great weepy moments till things took a nasty turn last week. But back to me & the cat. Purrl is cozied  up next to me right now on the couch - a first ever.  Like he knows his days are numbered here. I hate the thought of taking him to the humane shelter. He is a good kitty, and deserves the very best home with lots of attention lavished upon him. And tuna once in a while but not too often.  But. I cannot be a slave to this house...these animals. There is a lot involved in maintenance, as it is.  And yes, a cat is no trouble -especially one with no claws and an easygoing personality. But my eyes itch constantly, and this misbehaving tells me he is deeply sad without someone to play with him. Which makes me feel guilty in my own house. Even worse, when my Nikki died, Purrl grieved deeply - sleeping on her blanket and coming to cuddle me. He stayed at the foot of the bed on Nikki's blankie for days, and followed me around the house. So now I feel worse trying to re-home him. But.  Ugh okay enough.  He'll probably walk into his new home (yet to be found) and be happier than happy.  Someone to play stair ball with him and brush him...he LoVeS the brush.
Enough ramble...time to start getting ready for work.  Pick one thing - and I absolve you from guilt from it...close your eyes...go!

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