Putting the TMI in absentminded
Yesterday, the universe made me smile. I’d had a bad day. The water taxi was good, but I got very lost in Chinatown trying to find the EL after a squabbling phone call with Gary.
Evidently, the universe sensed that I was having a bad day. They hotel has upped their toilet paper point game.
I don’t even know how they embossed that point on there.
Looked around the room; couldn’t find the drawers.
Found them five minutes later.
I checked that footstool. No hidden secrets.
Actually this is the only disappointing thing about the hotel. I was mobbed by robots by the elevator. That was fun. Story to come later.
This wee suitcase contains eight days of clothing, seven evening meals (see yesterday’s post), one rain-ready wig (thank you hurricane season), one fancy all-black ensemble WITH shoes for Operation Mincemeat and the 3-star dinner, and all my medicines and devices (the phone attachment that documents my tooth straightening compliance is in the mesh bag).
Spunky for scale.
The train is 15 min late already.
I’ve seen this sad story a number of times today. A man needed to use the bathroom, went to the grocery store, found it was locked, and drove his car through the doors, and then — one assumes — used the bathroom. The terse link from NBC above was the least smarmy of all the sources I saw.
I want to tell that man in the car: honey, here’s what you do.
Before you go to bed at night, you eat 3/4th of a cup of Kellogg’s All-Bran Buds. You doctor it with whatever you need. I currently augment mine with 1/4 cup of chocolate-covered almonds and honey-roasted pecan pieces. And half-and-half instead of milk. There you go. It tastes pretty palatable if you eat it before it becomes paste.
For me, doing it before sleep is key. I initially I ate it upon waking, like a normal person, but then I’d have two hours of waiting, and if I needed to be somewhere at 7 I’d have to wake up at 5. Much handier to dose myself at night and sleep through the dreadnought of shrubbery frog-crawling through my transverse colon.
This has worked for about a month now. Tonight I am making baggies of this doctored fiber cereal so that I can take it like medicine before bed in Chicago.
The Cat’s owner returned today, and I asked that she pause a moment so I could view the joyful reunion.
When that moment arrived, the Royal King of all Chonk Cats saw His rightful owner … and He immediately spun and raced into the basement.
The punishment only lasted half an hour, though, then he emerged and demanded food and pets from his Real Mom.
I know it’s only a study with mice, but every MS breakthrough began with mice. I even think I recall there were mice bred to be born with the mouse version of MS, poor things. I hope they have bladder botox made available to them at no cost.
MS drugs work to reduce the attacks, and most reduce them by a third. This drug does that too, but it also keeps mice from becoming ill, to a degree. So that’s nice, too.
My first thought was, sign me up for the human trial, but of course my next thought was, wait, I’m not blind or paralyzed. But good news for those MS people who are. I hope they fast track this one as much as possible.
I’m still cat-sitting. I’ve paid close attention to His every move upstairs, and I truly didn’t see or hear this cat pee all day and night yesterday. I was ready to take Him to the vet until FINALLY He voided His bladder at 2 a.m. People, the joy, the relief I felt.
We have bonded so much that we trade slow blinks all the time. Especially while He’s eating. And the sweet baby eats like a raccoon. He lolls on His side, reaches up to His elevated bowl, feels around for a morsel of kibble, then kinks His wrist to snag it and pull that bite down to the floor, where he chomps on it one piece at a time.
Intentional eating, I think that’s what they call it. Surprising he’s so heavy.
As of today, both of the Chicago baseball teams are going to be in postseason play. If one of them plays a wildcard game the week I’m there (30th – 6th), then I will definitely visit a sports bar and enjoy the game, and possibly I will participate in some light rioting after.
While the cat’s away the mice will play.
(But first, speaking of cats, let me tell you about my first day of pet sitting. I love this cat, I’ve played with this cat for years. Cat emerged after I’d been there an hour, I made eye contact, cat hissed at me. We’ve made up since then, but it was rocky at the start.)
Back to Gary, it would seem if I leave the house overnight he comforts himself with shopping. I didn’t snoop; the phone told on him. A message announced, “Gary, that Celestron telescope is on sale for $500 off.”
“We already have a telescope,” I said to the phone. “I mean, not one so pricey that you could knock $500 — wait — what is he doing?”
Then I snooped. Amazon Prime showed me all the fancy telescopes he recently viewed. That’s fine. None have been purchased. But he hasn’t even looked ONCE through my “birthday present” telescope and he’s already planning to level up.
More willful hijinks: the basement Alexa documented that he asked for the current time at 4 pm and 7 pm. My last words as I left were, “And please, don’t try to assemble the metal shelves in the basement on your own.” Yes, I hear it too, what else could the man do but assemble the shelves after a remark like that?
Of course the last thing I checked was the credit card app, and he had indeed bought that new telescope just moments earlier.
I can only assume he is spending money to fill the hole in his heart because we will not be in the same house again for four more days.