A tail of two kitties

Listen my children to a story about how one cat became two.

Though not quite in the cat lady category, I do love cats about as much as I do Wonderful (get crackin') pistachios. One of my FB friends posted a painting of R2D2 she had done. I am not much of a robot fan, but I hoped she could transfer that style into a painting of a cat.

Despite her surgery she said she could do that for me. I did not expect the painting for awhile but was delighted when she said her husband mailed it and it should arrive Wednesday.

Wednesday came without a painting. The artist called the P.O. to track the package. Officials said they stamped the package, but they did not show it had left the facility.

We waited a couple of days. In the meantime, the friend painted a totally different kitty.

Around the time she mailed the new kitty, the original kitty arrived.

Today, the two kitties share space of honor beside the new kitty tree

Raking the Muck

So, I am writing.

I have not gone anywhere or done anything but sleep for the past week.

One day this week, the air conditioner air vent decided to leak -- again. Half my inventory of electronic gear got wet, including my phone and computer. The Incredible Hulk moved the desk away from the impending peril. Mind you the weight of the desk far exceeds the limit set by Doc.

With all the moving around, I unplugged the router briefly. I then could not get the router to work. The bossy little message kept asking for a password.

I went into journalism because I cannot do math is one of those inside jokes. Do not misunderstand, some journalists excel at math. I am not one of them. Experts say to make passwords that you will remember. Have separate passwords for each device, and do not write them down anywhere. Use random letters, numbers and symbols. You know how many passwords I use on a daily basis? Websites you visit sporadically pose the real problem. How many oddball passwords can this journalist remember six months after submitting them?

I had no idea what password I picked, and only days passed since I chose it. I tried a couple with no luck. The situation meant I would have to call for help.

A woman named Kath answered my call. After about 20 minutes of try this, the machines meshed again. Crisis diverted, stress resumes normal level, definitely time for a nap.

In the next exciting installment of "Muckraking or My Life as I See It," read "A Tale of Two Kitties."

Safe 'que

I went to a barbecue yesterday. Although 14 people came to eat and talk, I handled the situation well. Of course, everyone there shares a giant portion of my heart.

We attacked the food like a swarm of locusts annihilating a wheat field, yet when I left, 14 more people could have feasted on the leftovers.

The children and the dog behaved themselves and the godsons talked and laughed. Papaw and Corey manned the grill. I furnished Blue Bell ice cream and waffle cones. Mamaw made her famous macaroni salad. One godson made potato salad and his significant other did beans.

Going to a gathering ranks high on my stress meter. Noise makes me uncomfortable and after so much of it, I flee. I managed a couple of hours before leaving.

Momo made his way on and up the cat tree today. I got photos, just like a proud mom when her son takes his first step. He looked around, and kinda went humph, what is all the excitement about this, and promptly jumped down.

I think I hear a nap calling.

IMYD

Triggers

Like pet dander triggers allergy attacks, several conditions seem to bring on attacks of depression.

Today, I arose at 3:45, visited the loo, fed the boys, made coffee, and prepared my Tyvaso for the day. Grand prix auto, with a nighttime muffled roar, kept me awake until the coffee did its job.

When the phone rang at 7:25, I knew the day would challenge my stamina. My friend plans a barbecue tomorrow for their children and families. I volunteered my chopping abilities. I dressed, changed o2 tanks, and hit the road by 8.

I chopped celery, cubed cheese, and minced onions that the store had minced, but we not fine enough. We also went to the grocery to get buns and drinks. Before the grocery store visit, we picked up the grandsons and took them to her house.

The car door blew into my shoulder, and my tank pulverized my shin.

Back to triggers. When I find myself exhausted, I begin making excuses. The minute I walked inside, I began thinking of reasons I could not go tomorrow. Then an argument ensued. Guilt bubbles to the surface. Then the dark clouds begin to roll my way.

So overdoing physically triggers my depression.

IMYD

Words, words

Funny how a word here or there, a completely innocent word, can push me closer to the darkness. I stick my feelers out to help and get them rapped for caring. You see my feelers are super sensitive and almost always get a little bruised.

Tuckered out

I am worn out. Maybe running around Target thinking my o2 was on caused me to feel this way. Plus a trip to the grocery store (o2 was turned on) and then I had two sets of visitors this morning. I know abled bodied folks think nothing of these activities, but this PH'er is pooped.

My upstairs neighbor thinks the action on his Grand Theft Auto needs the highest volume setting to be any fun. The best time to play coincides with my bedtime. He also seems to think my back yard resembles a big, green trash can, but that story can hold for another time. Despite the the grand prix of car chases in my bedroom, I fell asleep.

I slept soundly until I could no longer breath. Seems Pogo grew weary waiting for breakfast, so he turned off my c-pap. That action got him breakfast, all right.

The black angry cloud which hovers over me at times, waits just beyond my determination to keep it away. I feel it will catch up with me tomorrow.

I have slowly cleaned out my FB friends. The main trims were those who never post anything, even a like, on my page. Others were not interested in friendship really, but numbers. I'm done for awhile. If I have to perform this operation too many more times, I might be better off quitting FB rather than making everyone mad or making them enemies.

IMYD

out with the old

I have energy today. Maybe sleeping all day yesterday has something to do with it. So I start the day with coffee and dishwashing. I toss the petrified chicken strip and chisel the food from the microwave. Every time I take a step I am reminded sweeping should be the next chore to face.

I have decided to change the way I store everything in the kitchen. I also plan to shuck all but two or three cookbooks. I want the cookbooks to go to good homes or I would put them outside with a note that says FREE take one.

Though I am not moving, I am downsizing. I've held onto things I don't use. Time to remedy that. Perhaps while clearing out stuff, I can clear out my head.

I rid myself of all the clothes and shoes I did not wear. I no longer own a dress. I am now in the process of cleaning dresser drawers. Most of the drawers do not hold clothes but rather mementos and obsolete technology.

Once I have finished these projects, I probably will be at a loss for time occupiers. By then, the skies will be grey more and the chill will keep me anchored to the bed.

Therefore, I must stop the lollygagging, and get on while the getting goes.

IMYD

Another beginning

Yes, I would love to go ____with you, I say a week before the planned event. The first day after making plans, I think I can do this. By the day before the date, I am thinking of excuses to offer why I cannot go. Each day seems to get darker until nothing can pry me out of my apartment. I feel guilty, but even the guilt and imagined shame fail to get me to go.

Then here comes the guilt of offering to do something for someone and failing to keep my word. How can I expect friends to forgive me? How can I expect them to ever believe me or even continue to be my friend? What is in me that I cannot see that keeps them calling or talking to me? Some do give up; how can I blame them?

Tears pool just beyond my eyes. The dam of determination holds the liquid pain in check. I know if the dam bursts, the flood will drown me.

I once received a letter from someone who had walked the path I am walking. I put the letter away. A time came that I believed I needed to rid my life of the negative. The letter was among the material things I tossed. For a year or so, I believed what I had done was right and necessary. Now I would give up most anything to have that letter back.

Should you push yourself to endure the pain? Does facing it help you find relief or does it wear you down to the point of giving up?

Where are you, Dude?

What's on my mind

I spent the greater part of my life looking for love. Friends tell me I am loved. I do not believe them.

How do I really know I am depressed? What if I am pretending so I can get sympathy?

I miss you, Dude.