5/24/10 – Monday

Guess who has himself a shiny new job and is heading off for his first day of work as I type? That’s right, folks, after 7 weeks of unemployment, 99 resumes sent out, occasional calls from recruiters, head hunters, and various and sundry other people, Fred got himself three interviews, was deemed overqualified for the … Continue reading “5/24/10 – Monday”

Guess who has himself a shiny new job and is heading off for his first day of work as I type?

That’s right, folks, after 7 weeks of unemployment, 99 resumes sent out, occasional calls from recruiters, head hunters, and various and sundry other people, Fred got himself three interviews, was deemed overqualified for the first position he interviewed for, and was offered the other two. He’ll be working for a large company with room to advance, so here’s hoping he LIKES the job! He really, really likes the people at his new company, so that’s half the battle.

I have to say that in retrospect this 7 weeks went by a lot faster than I would have expected. We didn’t get nearly as much accomplished as we’d hoped to, but that’s the nature of time off, isn’t it? Hey, at least we got the pantry inside the damn house!

On Saturday we went to Kohl’s to buy Fred some new work duds. In his old job, he wore shorts to work every day (nice pleated dress shorts, but shorts nonetheless). The dress code at the new job is “business casual” which I am told consists of something in the khakis and button-down range. We got to Kohl’s right after it opened, and Fred went off toward the men’s section while I went to look at jeans and underwear. When I went looking for him about half an hour later, he had a pile of khakis and button-down shirts.

Oy. One thing y’all do not know about Fred And3rson is that when it comes toward clothing, he gravitates toward the bright, flamboyant colors. If left to his own devices, he’d have gone off to work on his first day dressed like so:

I convinced him to go for the more muted colors until he’s been at his job for a while.

After he’d chosen his clothes, we had to go over to the shoe section.

“You HAVE shoes!” I grumbled helpfully. And, “No one CARES if a MAN wears the same shoes every day! Are you afraid that the other geeks will say ‘Oh, he was wearing THOSE shoes yesterday!’?” And, “NO ONE CARES what you wear on your feet! Just get something comfortable!”

He found shoes he liked, grabbed some socks, and we were on our way.

Sunday, he started agitating to go up into Tennessee to the flea market. I couldn’t figure out why he wanted to go instead of waiting for Memorial Day weekend, which is when it’s really a big event, tons of people there selling stuff, and worth going. As it turned out, he decided that he needed a new wallet, because the wallet he had was falling apart.

I bought him a wallet at a leather outlet store in Boaz fourteen years ago, and he’s been using it ever since. I’ve been telling him for at least the past five years that he needed a new wallet, but he’s been resisting spending the money. It turns out that the idea of pulling out his old hoopty wallet in front of the other boys did not appeal to him.

Instead of going up into Tennessee, we went up to Walmart. He headed off for the wallet section, and I went over to the pet section. Fancy Feast canned cat food is on sale for 30 cents a can right now, which is a pretty great price, so I stocked up. Once I had what I needed, I went looking for him. They’re rearranging the whole friggin’ store, so he’d had to wander around to find the wallets, and then went looking for me.

I swear to god, whenever we go shopping together, I spend 95% of the time I’m in the store looking for him.

So he’s all set, he’s headed off to work in his pretty new clothes and fancy new wallet, and I have the house all to myself again.

I believe I’m going to celebrate by landing my ass on the couch and watching the final episode of Lost.


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I saw this advertisement on Facebook yesterday:

I don’t know who the hell that man is, but he is NOT Jack Reacher. Jack Reacher looks NOTHING like that, am I right?

(You’re saying, “Robyn, you stupidhead, that is clearly the man who READS the Jack Reacher books!” Well, this is what Dick Hill looks like, and I don’t think it’s the same guy, so shaddup.)


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So last Monday I brought the Rescuees home, and they were all perfectly fine, healthy, running around like their tails were on fire. Especially Sheila, who won me over with her wild ways at the vet. I weighed them all Monday night to see where they were.

As the week wore on, Sheila got quieter and quieter and stopped eating, and it got to the point where every time I walked into the room, I was carrying something to try to tempt her to eat. She seemed to rally Thursday – I got her to eat – but when I walked into the room a little later there was a large puddle of vomit. By Friday, she’d lost 4 ounces from a beginning weight of 1 pound, 6 ounces. She was seeming to rally again, she ate Friday morning, but then vomited again. She’d go over and sniff the bowl of food, but then walk away and sit there, hunched over, looking miserable. She clearly wanted to eat, but was nauseated by the smell of the food. We had an appointment for Spanky Friday afternoon, so I called the vet’s office to make sure it was okay to bring her with us. It was, so we did.

The vet looked her over, they did a fecal, and the vet offered up a couple of suggestions as far as what could be going on with her. She gave us a few things to give Sheila, and we were on our way home.

(Spanky, by the way, at the age of almost 14, has ACNE on his chin. He’s never had that issue before, but in his senior years he’s all acne’d up like a, well, a 14 year old boy, now that I think about it. He’ll be fine.)

So poor Sheila, all weekend long every time we went into the kitten room, we were putting medicine or PediaSorb into her mouth, and she was getting pretty tired of it, thank you. But she seemed to be doing better on Saturday, and last night she was back up to 1 pound, 4 1/2 ounces. The best thing, what really made us feel better, is that she was playing. She hadn’t really done any serious playing since Tuesday night, but yesterday she was chasing the boys around and showing them who the boss is.

(Hint: SHE is the boss.)

So she’s doing well – they all are – eating well, and now every time I walk into the room, they all howl at me because they got accustomed to my constantly bringing tasty food to tempt Sheila to eat.

Garrity, on the cat tree, where he’s safe from Sheila. Check out his gorgeous eyes – here’s a closeup:

How neat is it that the gold is spreading outward from his pupils like that? SO neat!

Gavin kicks some toy mouse butt. He’s got the really cool eyes, too:

Sheila, kicking some Garrity tail.

“I was just playin’ dead so she’d go away. When she’s not looking, I’m totally going to jump on her and bite her neck!”



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The Bookworms are also doing well. They’re now in the house 24 hours a day instead of being locked up in the guest bedroom at night. I had planned to start letting them stay out all the time a few weeks ago, but ended up deciding to keep putting them in the guest bedroom as long as they didn’t fight it too hard. Friday, they fought it, and I decided we’d just leave them out and see how it went.

It’s going okay. At various times through the night, I wake up and have all the kittens in bed with me. There’s been the occasional Bookworm-Elwood/ Jake spat, and they LOVE to race through the house like a herd of elephants the instant all the lights are off, but I’ve been sleeping okay, so I’m not going to complain. Rhyme and Bolitar take turns sleeping curled up right next to me. They both purr constantly, and waking up to a sweet purring kitten curled up next to you is always a good thing.


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Kara in her favorite sleeping place.


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2009: No entry.
2008: One of the many things I don’t get: sour cream.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2004: ”It’s HOT in the SOUTH in the SUMMER?! You don’t say!”
2003: No entry.
2002: I hope you’re planning on marking the occasion with style and panache, people.
2001: And so on until it’s lunchtime and I’m so excited at the thought of Lime Jello for dessert (it being Tuesday and all) that I hang up on her and go hobbling out to the lunchroom with all the other old people.
2000: Fuuuuuuuuuuuck.