You'll Just Have to Pretend

There are two reasons that there is not a "real" picture included with this post.  First, while Rowdy-cat is totally enamoured of the boxes that are all over the house...he won't stay in one long enough for me to get an absolutely adorable photo of him climbing in and out of them.  Second (and more importantly), my house is in that period of absolute chaos that comes with sorting, resorting, pricing for a garage sale, packing up non-essentials for storage (and should I be packing those at all?), and trying to keep out the things with which to live here for the next month or so.  And I would be horrified for anyone to see it.

So you'll just have to pretend that you see me sitting here amidst all my junk.  You know, I thought I got rid of stuff during the last move!

Ruthless.  Just call me ruthless.

The garage sale is June 20th...the countdown has begun.

Really, I'm Not Psychotic

The funniest thing I overheard at work today was one of our mental health professionals on the phone with a patient's psychiatrist.  "What makes you think he's not psycotic?  He just had a conversation with three people standing next to his car, and neither the people nor the car are there...I think he's psychotic...heck, we all think he's psychotic!"

It struck me as quite humorous that this man's own doctor is clueless how nutty he is...

Quote of the Day

I have always imagined that paradise will be a kind of library. - Jorge Luis Borges

Garage Sale

I am so motivated right now to downsize, clean out, and start fresh! I have made a list of things that I would like for my own place, whether that happens next month, or next year. And I have created a budget and prioritized the items. So I am saving. And I am having a huge garage sale in June. I love this part of the planning and preparation when my drive kicks in and I just get in "toss that in the pile" mode. After all, how much stuff does one person actually need? Not much, when it comes down to it.

Mom

I Need This T-Shirt

It may surprise you to know that I have been accused of being sarcastic. I come by it very naturally, I assure you. (Yes, it's genetic. No, not from my mom.) And it comes in handy at times. It's great for deflecting angry patients. And co-workers. And inappropriate men. Although perhaps that's more irony than sarcasm. But you get my drift.

Yum

When my mom was here, some good friends treated us to a dinner out at Scott's Bar and Grill in Edmonds. Now, obviously, I love good food, but on top of that, I appreciate food served with nice presentation even more (drilled in by my mom, the college home ec major, and my 8th grade home ec teacher). I started with an amazing French Onion soup. (Sorry it's a bit blurry, but you get the idea!)

Mom had the Almond Crusted Sea Scallops. I am not a shellfish eater, but these were tempting in their beauty! I had the Prime Rib, which was delicious, and had the hottest horseradish ever. The waiter warned me...

We both finished it off with the Burnt Cream. Which obviously I was so excited to get into my mouth that I couldn't wait to start.

The full menu is online. Go there. Eat lots.

Digging a Hole

There is something very personal, final, and rather cathartic about digging a grave. Even for a beloved kitty. Buddy died in his sleep last night. Even though I knew it was coming before I went to bed, I wasn't really prepared for the sight of him this morning. Or how hard it would be to wrap him up in a sheet. Rowdy came in the room and kept nudging him with his nose. That just about put me over the edge.

Here are a few things about my Buddy. I got him at PAWS after my separation. My dad started calling him Buddy since he followed me like a puppy when he first came home. I think he thought I was going to run off. I wanted to name him something noble like Fitzwilliam Darcy or King Henry. But Buddy stuck. He also had the softest fur ever. Bunny fur. If he could have spoken I think he would have had a very posh British accent.

And I loved him.

Credit Where Credit is Due

Earlier this week, I had to take my car into a detail shop to get an exterior cleaning. The new parking garage at the hospital leached lime this winter onto a few of our cars, and Providence sent us to get them cleaned. Having a new car...it was a little frustrating, but not nearly as annoying as the one-inch paint ding that someone left on my front bumper...while in the same garage (and it's employee parking!).

But I digress. Shocking, I know. I headed to Auto Detailers where Glenn did a lovely job and I took my happy little car home. Imagine my surprise when yesterday after work, I noticed that the paint ding was gone. Fixed. And Glenn never mentioned a word to me! How easy it would have been for him to tell me how wonderful he was...but instead, he just did an above-and-beyond job on my car.

If you are in Everett and need auto detailing or body work...I highly recommend them!

Ups and Downs...and Up Again

This has been "one of those weeks".

Buddy, the prince of all cats, has been sick this week with a completely blocked urinary tract. After a trip to his vet, and a rush trip to the kitty ER, and two nights in the hospital, he came home Saturday night for a trial run. Essentially, the big question is "will he pee on his own, or is he still blocked?"...and if not, I had decided to put him down today...as the only other option is a $3000 surgery.

The kitty snuggled all night with me. He's really been my baby this past year. And this morning before work, I said my goodbye. Because there was no urine. None. And I was heartbroken as I headed out to work. My dad, who has really been supportive (financially and otherwise) with the cat-thing, agreed to take him to the vet for me.

Dad came and picked him up, took him in to the clinic, and waited out front. Imagine how he must have felt when they came back out with the cat and announced (he says very loudly to a full waiting room) that, "we're not going to euthanize your cat...he just peed all over the tech!" Nice going, Buddy. Dad says he is mortified and never going back there, as he is sure they think he is a heartless killer.

The little guy isn't out of the woods yet. But he is home. And I will be keeping an eye on him. He's still not feeling well. Rowdy knows this and keeps trying to get next to him and groom him. It's sweet. But I'm not sure how much more of the up and down I can take!