Monday Blues...

     Waking up this morning, I had a sense of foreboding. It was then it hit me. Today is Monday. Cue the scary music.  DUN DUH DUNNNNNNN!!! Yes I know, in the grand scheme of things, the fact that it is Monday isn't cause for alarm. Today however...completely different story. I had to take not one cat, but two cats to the vet for shots. Insert grimace face here. You get my foreboding now right? I played up each and every possible scenario in my mind going over every possibility of disaster.
       Mature cat versus baby kitty. Mature cat aka Binx is a medium hair solid black cat with glowing yellow eyes. She exudes hostility lately due to the new baby kitty. New baby kitty aka Salem is a eight week old, solid black medium hair, SPCA adoption we picked up a week ago. To say that tension is thick right now would be sugar coating it. He likes her. She hates him. Your typical male/female relationship right?
     My stomach lay in such knots that I skipped breakfast and went early to get it over with. Half a mile and a car full of growls and hisses later, we arrive at the vet intact. I filled out the necessary paperwork and waited. I sat there hopeful with the new Sookie book opened in my lap and listened. No growls. No hisses. Complete and utter silence. If you could have seen my face, I am positive a look of bafflement and then of worry crossed my face. I double and triple checked...yep, they were both still breathing.
     I was truly at a loss. I had made sure to warn the vet techs and reception of possible cat war. Noticing the small smiles from reception, I now realized they considered me crazy. Even after going into the patient room, still no declarations of cat war. The appointment progressed at the usual boring pace and we paid our bill and left. Each cat received shots and ...nada...nothing...zilch... Can it be? Did I hallucinate the entire past week? Is there some larger cat war conspiracy waiting to ambush me? I'm scared...

Confessions of a Wannabe

My alarm screams and I jump out of the bed confused, mussed, and tired. What day is it? Is it bad that I'm not sure which day of the week it is? I slap my hand on the alarm willing it to cease and desist its shriek. Scratching my head and swiping a hand over my face, I make my body stand and walk towards my daughters bedroom. "Time to get up darlin." I hear a muffled hmmf and go to the bathroom for my morning toiletries. What day is it? Did I figure that out yet? Finishing up in the bathroom, I shuffle down stairs and let the new little black kitten we adopted out of the bathroom. Loud complaining mews greet me as I look down to see his cute face staring up at me. Scooping him up into my arms, I stifle a yawn and sit at my computer checking email. Salem, the six week old kitten purrs loudly, happy he's not trapped in the bathroom any more. I would leave him loose, but with a dog and a cat that we've had for years not happily accepting of his presence I figured for his own safety he'd less likely be eaten if I kept him locked up while I was sleeping. After scrolling through countless emails, I make a few notes on my "to do" list and sit a moment longer. I still need to finish my proposal for the YA anthology I want to be in. I still need to do my homework for college this week, as well as start on the reflective paper draft due Monday. Did I ever decide what day it is yet? Writing is a pure joy, but it's not always easy to organize my thoughts. A moment in the daily life of a writer isn't glamorous and full of hunky heroes. It's just a life.