Finally, it’s raining. For months, the Westside and parts of St. Johns County have been on fire. I hope this wet weather helps to calm that.
Jack finally decided to go outside and chase the squirrels. In fact, he was so excited about being outside that you could just point in some random direction and yell “Squirrel!!!” and he’d go running. After about 15 minutes, Jack got tuckered out and now he’s inside taking a nap.
Here’s Polly, Jack’s backyard buddy.
I suspect my cat has become the neighborhood harlot. Most days last week we would find a couple of male cats hanging around the back fence. Grayson, a large white and gray kitty, usually stays in the backyard. Sylvester, on the other hand, sits right on the porch at the sliding glass door. It’s freaky (these are the names we’ve given them – I have NO idea where they came from!). They sing for her, they cry for her, and sometimes they just flat out scream bloody-murder for her.
Begging and crying for any female’s attention is surely not the way to go. You look desperate. No girl likes a man who looks desperate.
The kid and I spent the morning at the doctor’s office. My doctor is still keeping an eye on me as far as symptoms go but encouraged me to stay on the prescription pills even if one day I begin to feel better (newsflash: today was not that day). The pills make me queasy but I’m a big girl and will take wooziness over 8.9 Richter scale pain anyday.
Elle’s doctor expressed a little concern about her crooked kneecap (hmm…this is strange, but so is my kid). She’s allowed to return to her regular activities until the next injury which will send her directly to an orthopedic specialist. Because two broken bones in her arm weren’t enough? I don’t know…
Week one of my eight-week financial management class is over. A friend calculated it for me and told me that I’m 12.5% through the course. The fact that a friend had to calculate that for me and that I cannot do it for myself proves two things:
1. I’m no good at this sort of thing.
2. As a voracious reader, I can write enough BS to get me through this class. Seriously, I just did it yesterday and I feel quite confident that I’ll be okay.
I feel no shame in this. It’s like asking a 3-year old to perform some kind of Good Will Hunting-type equation or to diffuse a bomb.
It ain’t gonna happen.