It seems that some kind of funk has snuck up on me. I’m not depressed, outwardly. And I don’t feel down, necessarily. But I do feel sort of “whatever”, endlessly. I feel like walking around answering questions like Napoleon Dynamite. A conversation might go like this:
Hey Michele! What do you want to do for dinner?
GOD! I DON’T care. I’ll have whatever I FEEL like. GAWD!
And then I’ll stomp off with my head aimed towards the ground, killing pebbles (and something smaller).
I had a dream last night I had a pet ant (and something smaller). Having a pet ant as well as something smaller registered as normal behavior in this particular dream. Today, I have no clue what the “something smaller” may have been. In last night’s dream, I watched my bizarre pets run in circles for hours near a back door we don’t really have. I decided that a pet ant (and something smaller) needed “more room to move around.” So I let them go outside for a bit. In the end, someone either stepped on the ant (and something smaller) or they both ran off. Either way, I never found my pet ant (or something smaller) and I woke up antless. (If you think for a second I’m making this most ridiculous dream up, you’re sadly mistaken.)
My cat won’t stop screaming between the hours of 4 a.m. and 5 a.m. Last night was better, but he still screamed. It begins, like clockwork, at 4. Sometimes (like Saturday night) it goes on for 2 hours. Other times, it stops right after waking us up from a deep slumber. There are ghosts (or something smaller) bugging him. I just know it.
I wish they were day-ghosts.
It’s a day, you might say. And it’s cold out and there is no more holiday and my bank account is screaming at whatever carnage I put it through last month. There are trips I must take to that post office, the bank and the Laundromat. There is shopping to be done at the grocery store. Missy arrives tomorrow. Today is her birthday.
(P.S. Happy Birthday, Missy! Bring me your self, a pet ant [and something smaller], and I’ll take you out on the town in search of a smile.)
it’s because i got you sucky presents
I will bring you an ornament for your naked tree. It will be a snowflake cut out from notebook paper that reads: “Missy Wuz Here”. Or maybe, “I Wuv Porn”.
I got wonderful presents! TobyJoe = insane. Missy, yes, I prefer the “I wuv porn” indeed. Tho, you being here is very important. I think you, gerry and myself will have to create “I wuv porn, too.” this weekend. Yes.
I wasn’t invited. Screw you guys.
What, does Toby not wuv porn?
We used to have a cat (Angel the Cat) and when she started to scream at night it was because she was developed a thyroid disorder (hyperthyroid I think but I could be wrong). There is something about a hyperthyroid that makes cats yowl and make noise at night. Watch for weight loss with ravenous hunger – that’s another indicator. Or it could just be ghosts. Ghosts are definitely the cheaper option.
Sharbean, what did you do for the cat? Anything? I’m not sure why he’s doing this. It’s unbelievably irritating. Should I find it slightly amusing that I’m annoyed by this on this thread, yet Toby and I are discussing babies in the other one? Mmmmhmmm.
Well…I took her to the vet when the screaming became too much (this was after putting salt bags around the apartment to get rid of any weird energy [I’m a little strange sometimes but I come from the East coast if that means anything]). She was diagnosed as having a thyroid problem and put on methimisol which is inexpensive medication. What you said about the cat screaming at 4am rang a bell with me because that is how it all started with Angel.
Oh dear. I hope there is nothing wrong with him. But I do thank you for the info. I will take him to the vet again to be sure. :[
I hope it is nothing as well – and perhaps just being in a new place. But of all the things that can happen to cats this is one of the most common and the easiest to treat. Angel had a heart condition and also a kidney disorder so she was never a candidate for the more common iodine treatment. That said she was a sassy little cat and lived to be 21.
Wow, I would love to have my big boy, Schmitty live to be 21. We are praying this happens. He’s much cherished.
Either way, this is the type of information which makes me remember why I keep this Web site (that and the numerous baby pictures I get from my brother). I like the information that comes my way. Thanks. If he keeps this up, I’ll have it checked out.