What The Cats Give Me

I'm a little jealous because my pal The Mole has a new kitten. She delights in him and for the last couple of days, I get a play-by-play of what he's doing. Yeah, a little jealous.

Yesterday was a bad day at work. Not directly for me, but the Big Boss has been having serious words with the managers and I'm glad I'm not one of them.

I had wanted to take a day off yesterday but thought that Dr. A would yell at me for taking a day off at short notice. I dragged myself into work and was resigned to a basically thankless task given to me by one of the managers. It's too tarsome to get into.

When I came home, I was frazzled and frizzled. I hadn't set up my meds for the week, so I immediately gulped down some clonazepam and settled on the couch. Then the cats settled in around me.

I pet them and pet them. I talked to them. I used them as cheap versions of Dr. A. Cheap, non-yelling, and infinitely more cuddlesome than Dr. A. I found that wound-tight muscle in my chest unwinding and it wasn't just the meds.

This morning, we're all a little better for it. With Dylan asleep in my arms, pressing his wet-ish nose into my elbow, I thought, I have a kitten. I have four of them and am more than content with them. Sometimes they're the best medicine in the house.