I’ve packed up my suitcase with five days worth of work and fun clothes for the next trip to New York. It’s possible that tomorrow will be the last time for a long time that I have to haul it out of bed at 5:30 to catch that 7am train. Next week is the Republican National Convention and I could reasonably weasel out of my trip that week. And then, of course, I’ll be living in New York and it will just be the same old commute. I wonder if I’ll have a place to live. You wouldn’t think so, seeing as the apartment contracts still haven’t arrived. No rush folks, I can just live in a cardboard box or something.

I’m watching Michael Phelps get his gold medal. I wonder what goes through their heads as they stand there through the length of the US National Anthem. I wonder which country has the longest anthem. I like the addition of the little leafy crowns.

Zoe and I went off to the vet this morning. She’s a little light and a little bit *off* so I thought we had better go in. He said he wants her to gain a pound (she’s at 7 right now) so I’m going to try to make sure she enjoys that. She’s about to get a little chunk of butter as her evening snack, which is a choice she enjoys. The doc took some blood and we’ll find out what it tells us tomorrow. There was a funny/awkward moment when he squeezed her and she barfed on his table. Just a little bit. And I mean, he did squeeze her.

And now she’s just done that funny thing where she walks up and just collapses in a purring heap across my forearms while I try to type.


One response to this post.

  1. Good lord. At 15 pounds, Jack weighs more than twice Zoe!
    I don’t know which cat to be more alarmed for.
    But I wish someone would feed me a little chunk of butter at supper.


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