Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Morning

I usually like getting up in the morning. The older I get, the more of a morning person I've become. Except on work days. I hate getting up on work days. I hate anything I "have" to do. Most mornings I futz around, check email, have my morning Diet Pepsi, (where I get my needed caffeine...I've never had coffee...weird, I know) and generally waste time until I have to go to work. I don't really do anything productive on work mornings. I use work as an excuse not to do anything else. Can't do laundry...don't have time. Can't vacuum...would wake sleeping husband. I have excuses for everything. I am the Queen of Procrastination.

This morning has started badly. Sitting here fat, dumb, and happy, minding my own business I hear the dreaded sound of kitty barfing...a sound anyone who has cats knows immediately. That retching sound is like no other.

The culprit this morning is Lilli, the ugliest cat in the world, who thinks she's beautiful. She rules our lives. She wants to go out...we jump up and rush to open the door for her. She wants back in...we rush to open the door for her...the same door that we opened only two minutes before. Lilli wants food...we jump up and make sure there's food in her dish...she has us perfectly trained.

Apparently last night Lilli got stuck outside so this morning she was waiting at the door to come in. Since she's been away from the food dish while outside, she's now starving. Straight to the food dish she goes and chows down voraciously on kitty kibble. Next it's time for a well deserved nap so the couch looks good to her. Of course she sits on my side of the couch where the dreaded retching first occurs producing a long snake like mass of recently ingested kitty kibble. I dutifully get mass quantities of paper towels, both wet and dry, along with pre-moistened cleaning wipes (whose inventor I owe my undying gratitude to) to clean up after our precious girl.

All in all, if you have to clean up after animals, which everyone who owns animals does, snake like ropes of kitty barf are actually one of the easiest clean ups...way easier than say a puddle of diarrhea (way less stinky too). So it's a quick clean. As I'm dumping the wad of paper towels in the garbage can I hear the dreaded sound again...fuck me runnin' (I think to myself). Heavy sigh, which does absolutely no good, but makes me feel a little better (sort of an inner pity party) and I arm myself yet again with more paper products. This time the little sweetie has barfed on the husband's side of the couch (I know it's wrong, but I'm secretly glad it's on his side...good choice Lilli). Another kibble snake makes its way to the garbage...where I'm graced with the sound of yet a third round of retching. This time it's on top of the back of the couch. I'm going to have to restock my supply of paper products soon. This time it was just a few little pieces of kibble. No snakes. The worst thing about this process is the temperature of the kitty kibble barf snakes. They're warm. It somehow makes it worse.

I have, on occasion, been able to shove something under the cat's head while the retching was in progress to catch the offending mass before it hits the ground. Sometimes it's a magazine, or a paper plate. I have no doubt that I look incredibly stoopid when I try to do this. The cat always has the audacity to look at me like I'VE just done something offending, like I've interrupted an artwork in progress. Cats are such ingrates.

This is my morning. I hope it's not indicative of how my day's going to go.

The good news is that I didn't get behind any booberdoobers on my way to work. I'm taking that as a omen that my day is going to get better. I know it's grasping at straws but I can't help it...it's the stoopidist thing.

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