I was kind of worried there for a while. I keep finding myself checking to make sure my phone is working. It is getting extremely ridiculous how I drag my mobile (cell phone) around with me. Bathroom tinkle trip? Yup, there. Shower? Yup, close to hand. Kitchen for a glass of something? Yeah, there too. But I was really beginning to wonder if the damn thing was working……
Then Z called. Whew! At least it works.
You know the old saying “A watched pot never boils”? Well, the same goes for the damn phone too! Of course, when it does ring and it’s the employment agency…. I get ALL HAPPY. For a while. Although they haven't called me in 2 weeks exactly. Sigh. So.....
As you might imagine, no, still no job. !@&*(^%%$*^%$^%&
On the bright side though, I got in one of my cleaning fits the other day.
Typically, when I get "down" - okay, depressed- this uncontrollable urge to clean posesses me and then I will, for instance, yank EVERYTHING out of the closet, so that it is BARE, scrub and clean everything, including the walls and the shelves, and then put everything back in all neat and OCD arranged-more so than before even. I do this with the kitchen cabinets also from time to time. But the usual recipient of my cleaning fit? The floors. A big-ass bottle of Clorox Clean-Up, a huge stiff brustle broom, and a bucket of clean hot water and a mop. Most of the house is tile excecpt for monster and Arianna's bedrooms, so, you can imagine the extent of my endeavors, no? Z will typically walk in after one of these fits and say "Oh, Cleaning Fairy visited again, did she?" To the ladies that read my blog, yes, he has survived that smart-ass comment to say it another time.
And where are my cats during all this furious floor cleaning? I've stuffed them all in the guest bathroom with litter, food and water until I'm done and ready to do that floor-last. Why? Do you think I want paw prints on my spotless floors before they are dry? HELL NO! They would do it just to spite me. Well, maybe not Miss Scarlett, my GORGEOUS little mostly red Calico-tabby girl. Fluffball. Scarlett purrs like a Harley Davidson, has big butterscotch colored eyes and likes being carried like a baby. She obeys me like a trained dog. I swear. I call her, she comes. She is on something she shouldn't be, I tell her "Scarlett, DOWN!" and down she comes. She also likes to swing under my wrought iron glass topped coffetable. Yes, on the iron bars, the loon. I love her to pieces. The other day, she had to go potty and the door to the litter box was closed. I was on the computer and she came, meowed at me I asked her "WHAT missy?" and she turned, walked a few steps, looked back at me and meowed. I got up and followed her and she walked right to the door, looked up at me and meowed again, then stood up on her hind legs with her front paws pushing on the door. I'm not stupid, I took the hint.
She also has a Cheetos & a french bread habit, but that's another story. (What? She is also a sucker for peach yogurt. My cats junk vs healthy food pecadilios is well balanced!) To the cat haters out there...... shut up. I love her and her big daddy Maximus (Max) too. It isn't as if I don't like dogs too for chrissake! I LOVE dogs. Remember, I love most ALL critters. (excecptions:reptiles of any sort, insects except ladybugs and butterfilies, and rodents.)
Yeah yeah, I know, just call me Ellie May.