I was going to write about abortion and Ohio’s stunning victory. And raise a little hell about the Republican legislature in the state trying to take away the win.
However.
I have no room in my mind for that. Top or otherwise.
The change from Daylight Standard Time (DST) to Eastern Standard Time (EST) has made Dot lose what little mind she has.
Stop laughing.
I’m serious.
Dot is our 11-year-old cat. She’s a menace.
You know the comics when the cat knocks over the full glass staring you in the face?
That’s Dot.
Cat people are going to know the mrowing cry when no one is paying attention to her.
Usually in the stairwell for extra emphasis with the echoes.
I just took her picture and she’s sulking on the corner of the desk, waiting for me to say sorry.
Nope.
She wakes me early, early at 0500 to remind me that the other cat needs to be fed. (Dot gets food all the time in her bowl that Pickles can’t get to. Pickles can’t free feed, she already resembles a football.)
The first Monday after the time change she woke me up at 0430 to remind me that I had to get up to go to the university for research assisting.
How does she know what day it is? Asking for me.
I worked quite late on Sunday night/Monday morning and the professor I do the research assisting for said we could change the day to Tuesday and I could do it from home.
You’d think WIN! Not driving to the university saves me gas money, parking money, and about 3 hours of time.
Dot isn’t sure what’s wrong but something obviously is because I’m on the computer all day, when I prefer to work later in the day.
Up on the desk, down to the distraction chair, up on the desk and sit in front of the monitor, down to the distraction chair, up to the desk to stare lovingly at me, down to the distraction chair, up to the desk to sit on the keyboard and act like she’s gonna eat my headset. All the while, purring hard enough to shake the desk.
Since 0630 she’s been in my business; be it on the phone, or the computer, or the other computer. I balanced the keyboard and sat down with my legs up, thinking she would settle if she had access to a lap.
Nope.
I opened the back door to the screened porch.
Nope.
I made sure she had fresh water, in all three locations there is water for the cats.
Nope.
I policed the litter boxes at 0600.
Nope. Back on the desk.
I need a feline-to-human interpreter, please.
Don’t worry, it’s almost time for her 4-hour nap.
Maybe I will get some work done then.
She just mrowed from the door and dropped one of her toys at my feet.
Awww.
Maybe she’s okay.
But she still needs to calm down.
Dispatches from the Evening Shift 