When I got up this morning, I could barely move. I worked in my wood shop all day yesterday, and was definitely feeling it. A part of me wishes that I would have put that effort into cleaning the mess that is my home (currently nicknamed "The Disaster Area"). You'd think that living alone would preclude a mess being made, since I clean up after myself as I go... but I have two cats. And they are forever shedding and dragging their toys out everywhere and tracking kitty litter throughout the place... and they never clean up after themselves!

Though Jake must have spent some time cleaning his butt, because it's been surprisingly clean lately!

You'd think that this would inspire me to clean my toilet, but it has not.

Though my butt has also been surprisingly clean lately, so I'm trying not to be too hard on myself.

In all honesty I don't consider myself special for having a miserable day. That's going around a lot lately. Like really a lot. And it does seem petty to be complaining about life when there are people in the middle of a literal war just trying to survive.

And yet...

It sure would be nice to not come off a weekend where I ended up working ten hours only to have a shit-load of crap fall on my head. Made all the worst by whatever passes for "customer service now-a-days." I swear that most companies now just want to deflect problems rather than actually solve them. And it's hard to get mad at the person not helping you because they don't set policy. They're just doing what they're told.

So I try to be kind after being put on hold and getting nowhere, even though I have full documentation to show that I am, in fact, not wrong about what's supposed to happen vs. what's actually happening.

But it's not like the people in charge of these big companies give a shit. They don't have to take customer service calls. They just have to sit back and count their money.

I could really use a vacation. Even if it's just staying home with my cats and watching television.

Happy Monday to me.

Given that I worked over the weekend you'd think that I'd be off to a good start for my Monday. But not so much. Most of my work issues were technical (yes, the Ubiquiti AmpliFi Alien is still a bag of shit), but I also had a pre-work run-in at the mini mart parking lot (of all places) with somebody who took issue with my masking up on the way to the door "AWWW, COME ON WITH THE MASK, BUDDY! YOU'RE NOT EVEN INSIDE!" Well, yeah dumbass... but I'm six seconds from being inside, so it seemed prudent to just mask-up on the way rather than having to stop at the door, mask-up, then go inside. Of course this idiot wasn't wearing a mask at all, so it's not like anything I could say would make a difference. So I didn't bother. Gee. I sure hope that he doesn't get Omicron.

And speaking of Omicron... they now have a timeline of three-to-four months before a specific booster is available for it. Am I going to get it even though I just got a "regular" booster back in October? Oh fuck yes I am... hopefully in time for my birthday. Because Omicron is so new, there are conflicting reports at how well the existing vaccination protects against it. Some say it does a pretty good job of diminishing COVID symptoms if you get it... others say it is not as helpful as had been hoped because it's mutated more spike proteins than the original vaccine taught our bodies to recognize. As with all things science, only time... and more data... will tell. I suppose if hospitals start getting overrun (again) we'll have our answer. All I know for sure is that I would happily get a new vaccine every quarter if it means I have a better chance of not getting seriously ill.

Or dead.

In the meanwhile? Masks actually work.

Even though apparently there are people who would rather not let you know that.

   
Ugh. Not this shit again.

UPDATE: Well, wow. This just made my Monday suck a magnatude less!

Holy crap! I had no idea that Doctor Strange was going to be such a big part of the movie! Thrilled with it!

I feel you, Peter...

Remember when, as a kid, Mondays meant that you just had to go back to school after having the weekend off and it felt like the end of the world? This week, as an adult, I didn't even get the weekend off. Brutal.

I woke up in a haze and, for a quick second, didn't realize where I was. Maybe I was having a flashback to when I was globe-hopping in back-to-back-to-back trips and would forget where I was because the time changes and lack of sleep mess with your head. I've told the story of how I woke up once in a blind panic because I didn't know where I was or how I got there. Everything was unfamiliar and weird. It was the most scared I have ever been, and I didn't figure out what was happening until I turned on the television and saw a cooking show with adorable children using sharp knives and boiling water. They were speaking Japanese, at which time I remembered that I was in the small city of Fujikawa. I had been to a couple cities in Europe for vacation, flew to the East Coast USA for a meeting, flew back to Seattle so I could trade suitcases and get clean clothes, then immediately flew to Japan for work. It was exhausting stuff, but I was young and could handle it. Apparently now I'm decrepit and have trouble waking up in my own bed.

Don't get old, people, nothing good can come of it.

Tomorrow is Amazon Prime Day and another Apple Event.

I'm hoping denim goes on sale so I can afford jeans in the former and that the low-light capabilities in the new iPhone Pro make it worth the trade-up on the latter.

I'm optimistic but expecting disappointment.

Such is life when you don't know where you are and how you got here.

I'd argue that this is my new normal... but, when I really think about it, that's the way it's always been.

Well that was awful.

Rather than put into words how my week started, here's my cats to do it for me...

Yep. Pretty much that.

I didn't step foot in the office this past weekend. Not once. I'm thinking that's probably the first time that's happened this year. It was a good thing... a great thing, even... but I did end up going back into the office tonight and working until very late to do stuff I probably should have done over the weekend, so perhaps it wasn't my smartest move?

This morning when Alexa sounded the breakfast alarm for the cats, there were no cats to be found.

This is highly unusual. But it's also the second time this week. They did it on Monday as well.

85% of the time both cats are lounging around my bedroom waiting for the alarm to chime. 10% of the time one or both of them are not in my bedroom when the alarm chimes, but come running when they hear it. 5% of the time one of them sees something out in the catio and forgets about trying to guilt me into an early breakfast... but the other one is still in my room waiting for Alexa.

My first thought Monday morning was "Wow. What is a big enough event that both Jake and Jenny don't come running when the alarm sounds?" The only thing that entered my head was that a bird flew into the catio and they are out there playing with its corpse. AKA: my nightmare. Poor bird.

But that wasn't it at all. They were just too dang lazy to come running and were waiting for me to come to them at the bottom of the stairs...

   
Then again today. Well, okay. Fine.

But I draw the line at serving them breakfast in bed!

At least until they demand that I start serving them breakfast in bed, of course.

I work seven days a week but, alas, that doesn't mean Mondays are any better for me because... because... well, they're still Mondays.

And Mondays is when Carl the RoboVac resumes cleaning my floors after getting the weekend off.

Something that was easy to remember when my security system reported suspicious activity had been spotted on one of my cameras. I tuned in to see Jenny had climbed on the countertop in front of a camera once Carl started roaming, where she was eyeing him suspiciously...

No idea why she can't get used to Carl... but she still hates him after all this time.

Another reason I knew it was Monday?

Well... I had a bit of a lingering cough this morning and decided to take cough syrup for it so I can get some serious work done. And things didn't quite go according to plan.

For those who swig their medicine directly from the bottle because they don't have time to grab a measuring spoon, please be aware that cat anxiety medication looks the exact same as cough medicine in a poorly-lit kitchen from the back...

I bought the anxiety medication to sneak in their water in preparation for their vet visit this past February. For reasons unknown, I never put it back in the cat cupboard after their appointment was over and just left it on the window sill with everything else. Can you guess which one I grabbed and swallowed?

Not that I couldn't use some anxiety medication right about now. I have been going through some awful, traumatic times these past couple weeks, and it's really starting to wear me down. If I'm going to keep buying into the idea that everything happens for a reason, then maybe this was supposed to happen.

If I start licking my butt and peeing in a box*, I'll be sure to let you know.

Though, to be honest, I really shouldn't be needing any medication for stuff like this. Not when I have cats.

Sometimes.
When I'm feeling all is lost.
And I have nothing.
One of my cats shows up.
And reminds me that I have everything.

Like this morning when I shook myself awake and Jenny showed up.

Jenny will happily fall asleep if I lay my arm across her and scratch her face. She loves it, and you literally can't do this long enough...

But the minute I stop? "HEY! I DIDN'T TELL YOU I WAS DONE!"

And then I have to give her mad love again because right now the only thing that makes me happy is when my cats are happy...

After Jenny left, Jake showed up for his turn...

And all was well.

Until I had to get out of bed and hop in the shower so I can start my day (and take cat medicine, apparently). Then Jake decided to show his displeasure by hopping up on the window perch and pouting at me.

I couldn't bear that, so I found Catnip Lobster to keep him company. He was still hugging it when I got out of the shower...

How much would my life suck without cats?

I honestly never want to find out.

*Well, licking my butt and peeing in a box more than I usually do, I should say.

Too sore to get out of bed. Too tired to go to work. Too worried the cats will eat me to die and not feed them. Especially when Jake is looking at me like this...

   
And it's a Monday...