Friday, January 15, 2016

where's my pillow

fat cat + piles of laundry = nap

This day started with a fool's errand to the post office in which I failed to check the open hours thus arriving 20 minutes before it opened. It ended with a sink load of dishes and cat puke on the living room rug. There were many things in between, one of which included running into a friend walking hand in hand out of the grocery store with our mutual friend's daughter. I love this small town feature of Brooklyn. Thankfully there are only a handful of people I dread running into, and unless I unexpectedly come face to face with said dreaded persons, I can cross the street to continue in stealth mode. Parked cars and a general state of distraction aid and abet my hermit tendencies. Tonight I relished the encounter, and it was difficult to decline my three year old friend's invitation to go on a ginger ale search for her under the weather parent. Sadly, I had to feed myself or risk a serious melt down and then I had to prep for my trip down to VA to attend the funeral services for my sister-in-law's father. Wild Friday night plans in every direction. And now that I've checked the last box on my to do list for the day, I'm going to crawl into bed and get comfortable before the cats make it impossible to turn over. Charrow is visiting her parents for the weekend, and you would think that might mean more room in the bed. Whoever thinks that clearly does not own pets (or doesn't allow them on the bed, which is cold, I tell you. cold.). And now a haiku about what it's like to fold laundry with cats (or the dog, but he's not home right now).

walk away from piles
of fresh laundry, return to
a slumber party

(too many prepositions, but I'm not fixing it)

picture: the fatter, bossier of our two cats curled up on my dresser in an old apartment, Brooklyn, NY, July 2009, digital 

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