September 26, 2005
Three whole days with no work -- just science.
In the end, I got to take Friday off -- a vacation day!! -- without having to come down with food poisoning or get a knee aneurysm.
Honesty is always the best policy. It went something like this:
"Honestly, I am thisclose to moving to Canada and becoming an alpaca farmer. Also, I haven't slept in weeks AND I THINK ELVIS IS TALKING TO ME."
"The good news is that I have no more clean business-appropriate clothes, so tomorrow I'm going to come in wearing an Elvis T-shirt and flip flops, and I might demand that everyone call me Priscilla and also, I sort of think I'll be TAKIN 'CARE OF BIDNESS, dontyouthinkso?"
"Right. Maybe you should take a day off!"
And so I did, and it was good.
For three days I did the following: shopped (bad), ate (bad), drank (good), watched TV (debatable), knitted (good, except the part where I had to rip out a bunch of rows on bootie #3, bad) and cleaned my house. I vacuumed up enough cat hair to make a new kitten, in fact there was enough hair to make a KITTENZILLA. I downloaded music, and checked my mail at the P.O. Box and I had SO MUCH MAIL, and I will take pictures and show ya'll all of this MAIL, the bounty of which has built up over about a five week period and I LOVE YA'LL, mail senders!
Since about the last week of July, I've been working insane 12- and 14-hour days and working weekends with no time to go shopping or do anything fun or check my mail or go anywhere outside The Cubicle of Despair. And I realize that I've been in this bubble, this frenzy, this zombie state of tiredness, but when I went out on Saturday to do some shopping I saw CHRISTMAS DECORATIONS. In the STORE. In SEPTEMBER. Did they pass some law while I was busy working? Was there some announcement that I missed? Did I not get the memo that they moved Christmas up a few months?
Ya'll. I'm not ready for Christmas. I'M NOT READY, OK? I have barely recovered from last year's Christmas. I AM NOT READY. I am just now sending out the Voodoo stuff I promised people back in APRIL. I can't do Christmas yet. MAKE IT STOP.
In other, more SCIENTIFIC news, I made some observations over the weekend, some feline reconnaissance studies, and the results are disturbing. Really. I mean... this is science. So you may be turned off, I'm just warning some of ya'll with more, you know, delicate and particular constitutions.
Scientific Study DuPurl, Case # 327765
The scene: My house
The place: My bathroom
The study concerns: The Pavlovian feline response to ME having the unbridled NERVE to shut the bathroom door.
The result: Scratch, scratch, scratchscratchscratch and also MEOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWW. Did you hear me? I said MEOOOOWWW and scratch scratch. Scratchscratchscratch hate you scratch scratch let me in scratch MEOOOOOWWWW scratchscratchscratch .....
Duration: This will go on ... FOREVER.
Until you open the door.
And let the Sobakowa in the bathroom. And the Bob. And the Frankie and Roy and YES THANK YOU, I NEEDED YOUR HELP TO PEE PROPERLY.
And I am posting this information because one day you, too, may come to my house. And you may want to spend some private time alone in the bathroom. And you will be SADLY MISTAKEN if you think you can go into that tiny room and close the door and EXCLUDE the cats. Even if you're takin' care of bidness. Even if it's Christmas. Even if you have a knee aneurysm ... they do not care. They want IN IN IN THE ROOM WITH THE CLOSED DOOR.
And that, my friends, is a scientific FACT.
Posted by laurie at September 26, 2005 7:38 AM