I have had the oddest week.

First, I have, out of nowhere, acquired a hacking cough that won't go away. Am I sick? Not really. I feel fine aside from the really attractive HACKING COUGH that I'm sure is driving my boss insane. It's driving me insane, so I can only imagine. It pisses me off because you really aren't supposed to exercise with a hacking cough and I need to exercise. It makes me crazy to sit on my ass. This is interesting because I used to be so good at it. I remember back when I was overweight and sedentary that my favorite thing to do with a Saturday afternoon was to read and eat snacks. I still like to do this but not for hours at a time.

These days, I cannot sit still. I always have a running list of things in my head that need doing. However, I wonder if maybe part of this is age, too? When you're 23, you feel like you have so much free time that you can just waste it doing nothing for hours at a stretch. Sleeping until 2pm? Why not? Drink coffee at the Village Cafe all night? Time well spent.

But sometime in the last few years I stopped feeling like I had an infinity of hours ahead of me. Things seem to move so fast that I can barely keep up. Kenny and I just had our nine-year dating anniversary*. Nine years! It doesn't feel like it's been that long but then, time doesn't seem to behave itself anymore. I try to catch myself in perfect moments so I can hang on to it for longer than the ticking clock allows. Events become memories too fast and I'm getting boring and trite right in front of your eyes. I just wrote that and now, thank God, it's the past. See how that works?

*To finish this story, nine years ago on Tuesday I called Kenny up and asked him out. He paused way too long before saying yes. I thought about delivering that pause back to him when we said our wedding vows, but I'm not one for holding grudges or anything like that.

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On Tuesday night I called for my stripy cat Zephyr to come in for the night. She knows when bedtime is and is usually waiting on the porch. She wasn't. I called and called and checked the porch a few times. Finally at 11pm, I looked out and she was there - just sitting. This is unusual because she's usually hopping to come in. I opened the door and she kind of slid in, all weird-like. I talked to her and she slithered into the corner behind the bookshelf. This behavior is Not. Normal. I freaked out and picked her up and checked her all over and I found was a broken claw and a little bit of blood. She was still acting really strange, lying very low, whimpering, and not wanting to walk. She didn't have any visible injuries or broken bones, but clearly something was WRONG.

I freaked out and woke up Kenny and after weighing it out we finally decided we had to take her to the emergency vet. There was nothing visibly wrong, but I couldn't stand the idea of her being in pain. My baby is in pain! We drove to the emergency vet and Zephyr didn't make a peep until she figured out where we were. Oh, poor kitty, your night just got worse.

The extremely nice vet checked her all over for broken bones or bite marks and didn't find any. Then she looked at Zephyr's face and notices that her mouth was red and swollen, like she'd fallen on her face or, God forbid, been kicked. They gave her a shot for pain and we took her home to sleep it off. I took off the next day because after a sleepless night I feel like death and I wanted to keep an eye on her anyway.

She's doing fine now - reveling in her wet food, but not at all interested in going outside. I wish she could tell me what happened to her. Poor kitty.

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Nothing happened yesterday so that brings us to today in which I am annoyed. I had an appointment to meet with the guy in charge of a gallery shop so I could sell some of my stuff. Yay for selling. I showed up at the appointed time and the gallery sitter looked at me like I was out of my mind. He was nice, but had no idea where the gallery shop guy was or when (or if) he'd be in. I wasted my entire lunch break to go all the way downtown, get honked at as I parallel parked (dude, if you stop to let me back into a spot, why the hell would you then immediately pull around me and honk? I'm parking. Shit.) and then spend 20 minutes waiting around and feeling like a fool? I hate being stood up more than anything. Well, I hate driving downtown too, but being stood up AND driving downtown is just cake.

Annnd, now it's almost time to go home and I couldn't be happier. Have good weekends, my monkeys!

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