Half-damp clothes in the dryer
I staggered out of bed, all alone (no cats in my bed), tripping over Biscuit as he had spasms of joy over the forthcoming num-num. I gave him his can of salmon & liver, then took my shower. I did my God Time and put Torbie in her box.
Our driver showed up on time, and I brought wailing Torbie out through the front door. She's scared of the garage door.
We got her to the vet and into the exam room. She settled down when she got her Feliway (it's a cat hormone, kind of like marijuana to some of them).
Doc came in and examined her, then took out the stitches. Torbie got a little pissy/hissy at the end of that. She's a sweet girl but she didn't want anyone messing with her foot!
Torbie got stuffed back in her box and carried back out to the truck. No charge to get the stitches out, but we did buy some Feliway.
The girls like it, but Biscuit hates it. Torbie has to wear the cone for another couple days, apparently the incision gets very itchy when the stitches come out.
Torbie was completely silent all the way home. I went in through the front door and let her out, she ran off down the hall at a pretty good clip. She was clearly moving better now that the stitches were out.
I went back out and we got some breakfast. I had my phone appointment with Doc. He was concerned when I told him the events of the last couple months. Gravy was badly hurt and had to be put down, the house nearly flooded, Torbie had to have her surgery.... I didn't even finish before he was lecturing me on the importance of getting enough sleep and taking care of myself. He knows I have the caregiving on top of all my other issues, as well, and running our own business.
He kicked our next appointment up to 3 months, from 6. I can see why he did it. So there's that. At least it's not on my birthday.
I also got my prescriptions "fixed" to 3 months now. Since I pay for them that won't be a problem.
We were parked in a grocery store parking lot, so when I finished with Doc (I didn't care the guys overheard me, it was mostly Doc talking anyway), I went in and bought Ron a couple booklets of Metrolift tickets.
Metrolift has the base area, where travel is "free" if you have a pass (pretty large area), and a "premium" area, where you must present two tickets to travel one way. Ron likes a couple of restaurants in the premium area (nicer neighborhoods, too), so he likes to have tickets. Now he does, 33 additional tickets (they are sold in books of 11).
We'll need to get Ron's new yearly pass in another month or so. That'll be fun, we have to go downtown for that. I think we should "borrow" the driver for that.
It's funny, the last time I went downtown on my own was when I had jury duty back in 2011, I think. I had a rape case. Huh, if the guy was convicted (they didn't want me for some reason :( ], he could be out by now.
I have to admit, I didn't like the defendant, he kept checking out his lawyer's butt as she spoke to the judge. Very rude and unmannerly. Considering my underage history with Ron, I don't think I would have been a good candidate anyway.
But, that's why I have an open Facebook, and I'm sure they checked it. They saw enough to say "No thanks, not Heather."
I wonder who refused me, the prosecution or defense? Or maybe they already had enough jurors, I was "like" juror number 60 or something.
Anyway, that's the last time I went downtown "for me".
Ron ate an entire omlette and side of hashbowns. He said he was up for hours, "burping" trying to digest.
I was busy with my blueberry pancakes and cheese eggs. The eggs were OK. I just ate them because I need iron and protein. The pancakes were alright but I wouldn't get them again.
When we got home, I found Torbie asleep at the foot of my bed, on the floor. I gave her a pat and took a nap for a while, Doc's lecture about getting enough rest fresh in my mind.
I slept pretty well. I woke up, clearly "full", but still tired. Medication really takes a lot out of me, but, like I told Doc, it kept me functional.
Biscuit spent some of my lap, sleeping with me. I laid my head on him when I got up and he was purring. What a sweet boy. I can't believe someone threw him out like an old can of beer.
Functional, to me, is defined by doing laundry, taking a shower every day, cleaning the litter box daily, feeding the cats, working, doing my God Time, and blogging 'most every day. If I can do all that I call it satisfactory.
Not great, I'm not out there having a lot of "fun" when I am depressed, and Ron has to deal with that, but I am at least functional. I knew Doc would understand what I meant.
I need to finish one load of half-damp clothes in the dryer, by the way. I don't like to run the dryer in the heat of the day, having a heat generator at the same time as an air conditioner just doesn't seem smart.
When I got up, I got dressed (my favorite nightgown, by the way, is covered in black cats) and brought in the garbage can. That was the "hard" thing to do, mainly because I had to get dressed and go outside.
That accomplished, I came back in and listened to Ron complain about "The Butterfly Effect, 2". Yes, it was a weird movie. I didn't like it. He's trying to get through the reservation line to make a cheap hamburger date for us tomorrow night.
I like cheap hamburgers.