I have a feeling that this full-time studying gig is going to wear me out quickly. I was all proud of myself because I’m already halfway through chapter 4 – I mean, come on! Three and a half chapters in two days? That seems like a lot, doesn’t it? Then I realize that I’m on page 70 out of 450, and I want to go lie down and take a nap. Yeesh.
I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow. New doctor. I’m not sick, I just, um… oh hell, let’s leave that topic for some other time, shall we? I’m not good at talking about my personal health issues (particularly girly ones) on the Internet. I mean, I got totally spooked when some freaky eyeglasses fetish group found this picture of me and I got like 5 different emails inviting me to their message board and wanting to know details about the exact prescription for my corrective lenses. And that’s just my eyes, so I’m really not inclined to talk about this other stuff. We’ll file it under the cool and vague mystery that is me. Trust me, if anything life-altering happens, I’ll write about it. Until then, let’s just forget that I brought it up.
Oh, and for the record, I have no idea how the eyeglasses fetish weirdos even found that picture because it’s not in any of my photo albums, I just stuck it up there so I could send my friends and family a link where they could see a picture of my new glasses. It’s a couple of years old, which you can tell by how short my hair was back then (man, that was kind of a cute look, wasn’t it? But such a pain to style, I think I’ll keep my ponytail-able length for now). And I don’t even wear my glasses anymore, even though I should, as it would probably get rid of a lot of my headaches, but they bug me. I don’t like having them touching my face all the time. So there you go.
Moving on: cat news! And another reason why I don’t like being home alone during the day. Cleo, our normally sweet mild-mannered kitty, brought a dead bird into our dining room & started batting it around. She’s not much of a hunter, so I’m guessing that one of the other cats killed it, and she just decided to play with it afterward. (Btw, I need to get a picture of this cat’s feet on here, because they’re awesome. One paw has 6 toes, the other has 7. Kitty has thumbs, I kid you not.) So I screamed (again, can’t control it, it just happens) and chased her out of the house. There was no birdie to save in this scenario like last time, as this one had clearly long since departed this earthly dimension. Normally I make Dave deal with the dead things that the cats bring inside, but it was the middle of the day and he wasn’t going to be home for hours. So I took a deep breath (and I didn’t cry! Go me!), scooped the bird up with some paper towels, put him in a plastic grocery bag and deposited him in the trash outside. I did a little sign of the cross after I put the lid on the garbage can. I’m not sure why, it just seemed like such an unceremonious burial otherwise. Poor little bird. And then I scrubbed my hands with anti-bacterial soap and hot water for a good couple of minutes, because eww, death cooties.
Oh, and the two cats who do hunt on a regular basis (Beaumont & Greta) apparently have tapeworms. If you don’t know what that’s like, just… God, I can’t even describe it without my gag reflex kicking in. You can read about it here if you have a really strong stomach. (Warning: there are photos of poop and animal nether-regions on that site. I’m not kidding.) Anyway, apparently one of the ways they can get it is from eating rodents. Hooray for my little hunters! So, we got some medication from the vet’s office for them, and I get the joy of trying to shove the rather large pills down their tiny little kitty throats, once today and again in 2 weeks. I got Beaumont already today – I found an empty syringe from one of Teenie’s medications and used it to squirt some water in his mouth as soon as I put the pill in, so he sort of had no choice but to swallow it. It seemed to work pretty well, he didn’t even draw blood. Somehow I have a feeling I will not leave the Greta experience quite so unscathed, as she’s a bit more feral than the other cats. I’m already plotting how I’m going to sneak up on her when she’s sleeping. Yeah, I think I need a hobby. Or a job. Whichever.