I had this snappy plastic lid that I used to cover the other half of Steely Dan's canned food, as he eats half a can at a time. Correction: he WOLFS half a can at a time. There's no trouble with SD's appetite. He is not a finicky eater. And every time he devours another bowl of food, I make a big fuss. "Oh, what a good kitty! You're going to be so big and strong!"
tell steelee dan something he don't no.
Anyway, Edsel ate the lid. He got up on his stupid hind legs, took the goddamn lid off the counter, and chewed it up. Now it's a plastic waning gibbous on his bed.
Goddammit.
I had to leave work with a migraine yesterday. I went to lunch in the park with my coworker Molly, and I could feel it coming on then.
By midafternoon, it was a screaming migraine of alarming proportions.
So I left and slept all afternoon, which was good, and when I woke up, the headache was gone, which is also good. But then I had the lethargy, where I just sat here like a lump, a personality-less lump, till it was socially acceptable to go to bed. I don't know who I was trying to impress. Iris couldn't even SEE me. Or the clock. So.
I just noticed this in my downloaded pictures from yesterday. This was what I woke up to yesterday afternoon. I don't even remember taking this. Edsel should really look into getting a more pathetic look about him. Probably SD had been pouncing on him all afternoon and I'd slept through it. I can also see that my shirt is at the end of the bed, so I just ripped off my clothes and threw them anywhere before getting into bed. That's always a good sign.
Do you have any bad signs like that? Like, right after Ned and I broke up last year, I went to bed with my trench coat still on, stayed that way for about three hours.
Not a good sign.
Or if the clothes just get tossed to the floor (or, as seen above, the bed) before I fall asleep, I was either sick or drunk. I usually at least attempt to throw them in the hamper. I mean, the tights might be dangling off the sides a tad or whatever.
I keep meaning to tell you that when SDS pounces on one of the big cats, in other words 20 hours a day, and the big cat--whichever disgruntled one it is at the moment--growls? Edsel runs over there to break it up. I think he doesn't want anything happening to his kitten. No matter where he is, he tears into the room and gets between cat and kitten to protect Steely Dan, who if you ask me doesn't need any protecting. That cat is all boy.
Once at a funeral I met a woman who'd babysat Ned when he was a kid. "Oh, I remember you," she said. "You were all boy."
No one's ever said that about me. You know what else no one's ever called me? A tomboy. I know this comes as something of a shock. There was nothing worse than when the only kid available in the neighborhood was one of those awful tomboy girls.
"You wanna climb a tree, break an arm, then shoot something?"
Yeah, no. I got a whole apple barrel full of relatives' leftover makeup, a Barbie that's just DYING to put on some heels and a sparkly dress, and a tape recorder so we can act the whole thing out. Dafuq's wrong with you, teensy lesbian person?
"Ya wanna ride bikes down the trail and play kickball?"
Jesus. [Takes spangled lipstick brush and goes home.]
Don't you wish you could do that now, just go outside and meet friends? It was so easy. Marvin once told me about a new kid in his neighborhood, whom he met by riding his bike past the kid, yelling out, "Gay rider!" and then asking, "You wanna be friends?"
This charming opening line worked, and Marvin is still friends with that guy, as far as I know.
I'd better put on some clothes and get to work. I hope my head doesn't come back. Return of the Head. I went a good two months with zero migraines. SO WHY NOW? WHY? I've no idea.
Did I mention to you that I'm going on a vacation next week? I am. I'm going to the beach. I had no vacation this summer, so I'm going. The only days I took off were to kill my dog and take Ned to his colonoscopy, and this year I have three weeks of vacation so I'm taking advantage. I can't afford it, but I'm going anyway. Fuq it.
I will talk to you tomorrow, gay riders, and I can only hope tomorrow's post will be as pressing and necessary as this one was.
