I am feeling the best this morning than I have for a couple of days. I do not recommend GI viruses to anyone. They can make so many mundane life events fraught with peril. But as a weight loss plan, beats Coloncleanse.
I wish that the Cat of the House, Sir Chesapeake Q. Jarrell-Johnson, didn’t have such bonie clavicle. It is nearly as if he is locking in and latching on to prevent my further movement.
It doesn’t fail, I can shift, but when I do, he is scruntching over. Theres the shift. The roll and drop. I am secure and he isn’t going to fall off the bed for when it gets tilted 92 degrees either plane.
Hind sight is a funny thing. I was laughing the other day about how needless it seems to have so many sets of sheets for one person and for one bed. Usually, when the planets are aligned, I take them off, wash and could get them back onto the bed before anyone, or me, or the Cat of the House – SCQJJ, were the wiser. Well, if these last couple of days are any indication… I realize I am a hot sleeper. I know I can sweat anyone’s balls off at night. Luckily enough, I have two sets remaining, clean, in the linen closet. There are five sets on the laundry pile. I’ll get to it. When the planets align.
I have recently discovered that as a fan of the “memory” foam mattress. I am not so much a fan of the “memory” foam mattress. (There, I hope, will be things that I wish it to forget but for now, not so much.) Given my confession in the last couple of paragraphs, the operative word here is foam.
Why the devil do they just not call it a sponge? You just cannot put on a new mattress cover on it. (OBTW: in total, three.) You have to sop up the mess and let it air dry. First, I am lucky it is a California King. There is enough room on the other side. Secondly, I am grateful that I am not into water sports. (If you have to ask, you do not want to know.)
It’s pi day and I am just not up for it truthfully. I usually enjoy the one day a year it is totally irrational. This however is only happening once in a life time. It is the Century pi day. I’m screwed.
Was suppose to have helped Wade and Ky clean today but haven’t heard from anyone as to where they are or when they are going to start or be… I’m not bothered. I’m still feeling deaths cold fingers tips on my shoulder… (cough! cough! cough!)
I’m going to miss those little shitzahs when they’re gone. They have truly become a part of my life. A really fun part of my life, and I am glad that I was here to be a part of their’s. I do wish that they will stay in touch.
One of them suggests that I ought to shift my focus as far as my own dating is concerned. I am looking in the range of age appropriate. At least someone I do not have to explain the connection between The Beatles, Wings, and Paul McCartney. When he does suggest, younger, the other one gets a scared look on his face. I’m not saying who, but one of them is an ageist. And one wants a Daddy. I just certainly hope that the confessions of a former club boy, twink, do not go unheeded. For one day the trappings of youth will fade away and one will be left wondering… “Wha’ happen’?”
Okay, all I know for now, house guest this next week and then everybody will be meeting up in DC on the 21st and they are gone on the 23rd. I need to start saving up for a trip to Fort Lauderdale. I wonder if Rosie’s is still there? Or Market 17. I loved that place when I was last there.
I am babbling. I need to see if I can eat something.