My day has consisted of a lot of unsavory things....starting my day at 2 a.m. and hearing Bella Mae upchucking. Get up, blindly, turn on the light. Proceed with caution as one is unsure where the upchuck was at. Clean upchuck, go to bed. Hear a kitty eat food. Minutes later, upchuck again. Turn light on, stumble around (glasses this time) find upchuck in almost exact same spot...clean upchuck. Go to bed.
Usually standard protocol would be to pick up the food entirely and set up where a kitty couldn't eat (if it is hairball, constipation, upset stomach, whathaveyou). Thing is, if Bella Mae doesn't have food available regularly, she'll eat too fast and then...well...upchuck. So it's kind of me laying in the dark and praying she gives her stomach a rest.
Eventually I fall back to sleep, which was hard because getting up twice to the sound of an upchucking kitty makes me wide awake. Commence strange, at times, work related dreams and then dreams of unknown origin that freak me out.
Then, at some point this a.m. I wake up after bumping a furry critter. Bella Mae, staring me in the face. She's next to me in bed, and proceeds to lick my aching arm. I'm frustrated, not because of the licking (frankly I love kitty licks) but that my shoulder is grumpy with me.
Un-restful sleep, aching arm/shoulder, and the knowledge I have a long day ahead makes me want to bury myself into a cave and cover the hole.
I pet Bella Mae, and she's purring and being so cute, continuing to give my arm and hand licks of comfort.
Eventually 7 a.m. rolls around and I proceed to hit snooze for 10 min. at a time. Finally I hit 5 min. twice, and get up a quarter to 8. Embarrassed and frustrated, I realize that I cannot afford that luxury in another day, and should practice getting up early because Saturday I have to be to work at 8. Then next Wed. I must be to Waukon by 8 a.m. for an eye doc. appointment. It's hard to thrill a chronically exhausted and boarder-line insomniac that one has to get up, regardless of how they feel.
I make my coffee and feed the kitties. Do my litter box checks and proceed to loaf about in the comfort of my jammies. After I do my morning workout, which is consisting of sit-ups and squats (because I figure I should DO something since it is too hot to walk to work)...I get dressed. I decide to try another water color painting...somewhat enjoying myself...even tho water color is NOT my strong point. Cordelia Joy is attempting to knock my brushes down, sniff the water cup...I get increasingly paranoid she will knock something over or hurt herself.
Then she gets down and starts exploring the floor under the A.C.
Eventually I cannot figure out WHY she's so enthralled, I go over and see telltale signs of something amiss.
Water marks down the wall, cracked paneling near the outlet, and a soaking cut up sweatshirt dripping water onto the top of the heater (heater is elec. heat, so a long, metal contraption along the base of the wall)
I panic, in true Josie fashion.
I take out the sweat shirt and socks stuffed into one corner of the window sill, seeing a pool of water. Great. Commence imagination running wild, soggy window sill, wall crashing down away from the house...catastrophe.
I'm using a measuring cup and a Tupperware to dump the water into. Eventually taking out everything under the A.C. to see a fully flooded sill...disgusting dead bugs, etc. This is every girly-girls dream come true.
One will say, tho, that the investment of my Dust Buster was a good one, because it is a good water-sucking tool.
Let me skip over the few times I called my husband in the brink of my paranoid panic/anxiety attack and shall also skip over the colorful language that was shared...along with us hanging up on each other at least 2 times.
Because I do not want to spend more than I care to...I go to 'the place that does stuff' aka WalMart. I find a cute little table fan that is perfect to be placed in front of the wall. At least blowing air on the parts that had cracked open from moisture.
I'm sitting here, trying to disregard the freaked-out-ness of myself...the worries that the wall will cave in/fall over, and that Bill and I will be homeless. I wouldn't feel SO terribly bad if I actually owned my own home. Then I would be kicking myself out (haha)...but renting is something I'm terrible at. I look at it as borrowing someone's quarters...the last thing you want to do is fuck something up. Even tho, in theory, everything IS fixable. Repaint the sill...that's really all that needs to be done. Paneling area? Not sure...but my mum swears if it came down to it she would think of something that would work. All in all, this place isn't perfect by any means, and we've already done some work to improve it. (screen door on outside, cleaning out a year+ worth of crap from the gutters.) There are still things that we mentioned to our landlord (I give him credit, he's super nice and lets us have cats) but he's not great at 'gettin' 'er done'. Unless it is the dryer. Even then, it took awhile.
It's hotter than blazes outside, the humidity sucks the breath right out of me. The kitties are more subdued. I feel bad because they are having to deal with the apartment not being as comfortable. Cordelia Joy just went to lie under my shoe rack. Bella Mae is in the bedroom. Ceiling fans are on high, window fan is in the office, and that is about it. Nothing more than I can do at the moment. And damn me for not having an ice cube tray in here.
Soon I will have to go to work and see what will be in for me there...hopefully it will be a tolerable day. It's all that I can ask right now.
A bright moment of my day, Cordelia's 'dual pointed tooth' is no longer in existence. I wonder if some of her biting me was due to her 'teething'. I noticed it was loose, and then the next second, no tooth there except one larger, more beautiful canine tooth. I did find her baby tooth, and it is now proudly displayed on my book case. Such a proud mommy moment for me.
So, I guess there are tiny fragments of good that grace my day today.