Weird that is my life....

[sorchawench]

Internal Dialogue:

Need to get out and get a new remote for the DISH system for the living room before they close.....

Crap...can't. It's Sunday, they're closed. Shit, everyone's closed. That means I can't get my shoe fixed either. Dammit.

Wait....why do I think it's Sunday? Trash can was on the curb. Trash day is on Monday. Wait....trash has been on the curb for 2 nights. It's not Sunday.

When am I?

I was off yesterday. Oh yeah, Monday. It's Tuesday. I can get things done.

Wonder if I'm the only person who has these conversations with themselves while on the toilet....

~*~

At that point I realized it was almost 12:30, we're supposed to catch a movie tonight, I had a BUTT-TON of things to get accomplished, and here I was, sitting on the crapper, arguing with myself, still naked....

~*~

First accomplished thing: Cat boxes.

Hauled Box #1 out. Emptied.

Hauled Box #2 out. Imagine my surprise when I flipped the lid on the kitchen box and found a half dozen fake red roses in it.

Shaman.

He has a thing for fake roses. It used to be just rosebuds. He'd carry em around, occasionally dropping them and batting them around. But they were his. We'd find em occasionally in the food bowl or floating in the water dish. Gotta eat and drink, yanno?

But he's apparently expanded into full blooms. And the full size ones have to poop I suppose.

Comments

[carrims.livejournal.com]

Nope, the toilet is my thinking place, where all my conversations with myself like that happen...
Shaman's quite the romantic, eh?

[sorchawench.livejournal.com]

He's.....something. He'd carry the buds around in his mouth and yowl. For no other reason we could figure out than to get us to come find him, so he could drop it and show us he had a rosebud.

My cat needs therapy.

[stacycat69.livejournal.com]

If it makes you feel better, I had the same "Is it Sunday" conversation while lying in bed debating getting up. :-)