I hate being stressed out upon waking up. The trend is the cat when that happens typically and this morning is no exception. Woke up to a note from B that the fucking cat missed the litter box again. I did a bunch of research yesterday on elderly cats and how many of them are suffering long before it shows because cats, like men, are stubborn fucks and don't show it until it's so bad they have to show it. Which means this cat really could have been in pain and dementia even longer and she has just managed to hide it. I am considering euthanasia for her, but I feel like I will be judged if I take her into a vet. But I know my cat. After a lifetime together I *KNOW* her better than some vet. She is not happy.
Spent yesterday on conference calls. Hours long calls. One with a university and the other with my client in Reno. Upside? Both calls resulted in confirmed gigs for January and February. Starting to line things up in 2015 already. That's the plus.
Paid rent. Did laundry. Helped B pack. Power watched a ton of Rookie Blue. Booked my trip (finally!) for next week. I will be gone M-Th. Of course that's when all of the fucking presents are arriving. Luckily our friends can stay here it looks like without it being a problem.
Went to bed around 11, B around 2 it would seem. That's what time her note said.
Teaching the next three days. Then it's time to get B ready to go on Sunday. Truth be told, I am looking forward to time alone at home. Yes, I will also be on the road a few of those days, but I also get six days at home by myself. I need them.
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