Sometimes I feel like a utter and complete wreck. If it’s not my bowels bothering me, it’s my head…which pounded for 3 days and I went to the doctor at My Guy’s insistence. I grumbled, “I’m not a SICKIE!” but my doc said I’ve got an ear infection…in both ears. I wish at times I could rip these hunks of flesh off my head and chuck them in the ocean for all the grief my ears have caused me over the years. This was one more little thing to add on to make me feel just a little bit crappy…I’m on different antibiotic drops (with a steroid in it) and it’s only day 2 but I have high hopes. So to those who know me and work with me, just speak a little louder because I swear, I’m not ignoring you!
The new digs are great but there are some problems in the name of Aslan, the cat. He’s keeping us up at night, every night, with his meowing, batting at the pulls on the blinds, beating up his brother, swatting My Guy’s alarm clock off his bed-side table at 4 am….the list goes on. I thought maybe it’s just because we’re in a new place and surely he’ll calm down…but no, not so far and we’re both getting grumpy. Shutting the bedroom door does no good because Aslan just throws his big body against the door and howls in rage…then the other cat gets all agitated…and the madness never stops…See this vicious cycle?
On the bright side, everything I need is within walking distance now. Technically it was before but I had to wade through Suburbia-Hell to get to it, so I always hopped in my car to get where I needed to go that much faster. Now it’s different. I WANT to walk along Main…I want to walk to my doctors and take Cambie back or explore a new little street and discover a tucked away little family grocer I never knew existed.
I’m standing here on this invisible line; one step in front of me is this new life and I’m so eager to jump head first into it. It’s one step at a time, one day at a time and all these little obstacles (like my ears and Aslans night-time antics) are just little bumps along the way. Life is a collection of these little things and we should be in tune to them.
Before I leave, let me leave you with one little story…it happened this morning at 7 am. I decided to walk out with My Guy as he left for work, a little kiss on the back porch, you know how it is. As I’m standing there watching him walk off in the pouring rain, I see some of the items we haven’t really found a home for yet, getting wet so I think “I should go move those out of the rain.” I reach behind me and pull the door closed so the crazy cats don’t escape…little do I know My Guy has locked the door (the bottom twisty-type lock). I go about my business and move some stuff and decide it was a dumb idea, too cold and want to go back inside…BAM! I walk into the door as I attempt to turn the handle. It’s locked! It’s 7 am, and I’m in a robe and slippers…the more I hesitate the farther down the street towards the bus stop, is My Guy. I hitch up my robe, kick off my slippers and run down the side of house bellowing his name…he can’t hear me! It’s raining and he’s probably running for the bus…I bellow more for good measure though.
I had to admit defeat and thought long and hard about the possibilities of crawling through the barred windows (albeit the bars are quite decorative and all) while the 2 cats stared at me. No doubt they were wondering what the hell I was doing on the wrong side of the window when there was breakfast to be dished out…
Hundreds of thoughts flew through my head: ‘Yay I can take the day off, but wait how will I call in? And wait, what kind of day off will it be in the rain?’ Sigh. The landlords live 2 streets up the road so again, I hike up my robe, clutch my slippers to my chest and head out into the rain. It’s pouring- hard, typical Vancouver rain. Unrelenting. (Turns out the radio announced it was the wettest day today…but I digress) I run up the street in my bare feet, the cool water feels kind of nice actually and it’s liberating to fly by morning commuters in your robe; a flash of my fuchsia nightie lending me a touch of mystery (or so I like to think…).
I rounded the hedge to landlords house, and there He was. On the porch, face to face with a drenched mad-woman, no doubt homeless in a robe with wet slippers in her hand…I had nothing to say but ‘Um hi. I locked myself out…’ and he laughed. I laughed too.
…I ran home with the spare keys clutched in my fingers, the cool wetness no longer feeling that great because my feet felt raw….but I got in to the warmth and to my hungry cats!
That my friends, was a helluva way to wake up…and all before my coffee!
I have to admit I was a little surprised to read celeb chef Mario Batali was in the process of writing a vegetarian cookbook. I absolutely love watching the Food Network but often had to change the channel if too much meat was being flung around. Now while Mario did introduce me to a side of Italian eating I hadn’t seen before, I just couldn’t handle the odd cuts of meat (cheek, tail etc). I realize they are delicacies and all that, and I’m not one to push my beliefs on anyone….HOWEVER…I chose to not watch. An article in the 
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