“…Probability factor of one to one…we have normality, I repeat we have normality.” She turned her microphone off — then turned it back on, with a slight smile and continued: “Anything you still can’t cope with is therefore your own problem.”
~ Trillian, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.
Well, normality, perhaps, but not normalcy. The bathrooms are clean again. I took a shower Thursday afternoon, scrubbed me thoroughly from hair to toe, and gloried in the feeling of being clean again. I met my friends LK and her husband C at the China Star Restaurant, which is a buffet-style restaurant, and we proceeded to pig out big time.
Since then, I’ve been slowly but surely putting the world back together, doing a little vacuuming here, and a little straightening there. I really, really need to sort out my books and do some serious dusting in the office, but it’s the ragweed season, and between the ragweed pollen and the inability to close my bathroom doors, life has become noticeably more sneezy and wheezy. It’s weird not to be able to close my bathroom doors — I tried closing them, but then a musty smell still builds up inside fairly quickly, even after a week of drying out. The cat that ate paper (including toilet paper) crossed the Rainbow Bridge this past April, so I could leave the doors open, except it’s bad Feng Shui to leave bathroom doors open. . .
Speaking of cleaning up messes, Jaks had a hairball in early July, and that’s the only time I’ve cleaned up cat mess since I lost my baby girl kitty in May . . . I empty out the Littermaid hopper maybe once every ten or twelve days. I’ve been working on trying to use up a container of cat litter for over a month and a half. I’m still working on the bag of cat food I bought in June, and there’s still almost half a bag left. (I have a special air-tight container I keep it in.) When I had three cats, two of whom were rather barf-prone, I used to go through paper towels, cat litter and cat food like nobody’s business and have to empty out the Littermaid on a weekly basis. . . Not that I minded.
Speaking of cats, earlier yesterday afternoon, I was printing out some knitting patterns, and fell asleep in the chair (it’s ragweed season), and dreamed that my mom and I were staying with my late Aunt J, two of my cats were with me, and while I was out, my mom took the cats to a Humane Society and would not tell me where she took them, citing that they were smelly, messy and bothering my aunt J. In the dream I was furious, hurt, and got practically hysterical. Thank goodness the phone rang and woke me up. It was a telemarketer.
Later yesterday afternoon, my BFF called and said she thought she had gotten taken for $2100 in an IRS scam (she has). This comes hard on the heels of her little episode in a local emergency room last Sunday where she ended up after some kid was running in the store where she worked, cut in front of her and knocked her down. (She was not seriously injured, although she is rather bruised.) Unfortunately, her money is almost certainly gone and the likelihood that she can recover it is slim to nil. This is money she can ill afford to lose. Unfortunately, she was an all too easy target for this scam, in which the perpetrator uses scare tactics, threats and intimidation. If only the NSA would put their Big Brother technolog to use catching scum like this guy, instead of monitoring everybody’s cell phone conversations and internet usage under the guise of hunting down the terrorists under the bed. . .