April is a Damn Fool or Why I love my Cat

I’m becoming … I don’t know what you call it. I remember the days when I could party 3 days in a row. Those days? Far behind me. And the partying isn’t necessarily ‘hardcore’. It just involves copious amounts of alcohol.

I woke up this morning with 4 empty wine bottles. That’s a lot. However, I’m sure I drank 2 of those. I remember at 2am playing Bohnanza thinking.. this is going to hurt tomorrow. And it does. Never again. That’s what I said last time, but I promise. I can’t do it anymore. My body doesn’t like it & neither do I.


My Grandmother is moving into a ‘home’. I’m spending every weekend for a few hours helping my Aunt clean her place. Cleaning meaning junking stuff. It’s sad to see someones stuff no longer theirs but just a box going to somebody else or a thrift store. I am unsure how to feel about it all. At first I was totally emotional & crying. Because I don’t what she’s feeling inside (she can’t speak english anymore) and because her neurological disorder doesn’t allow her to properly communicate even in Croatian.

It’s hard. It’s also created a family rift that spawned. And I’m not sure it’s going to blow over this time. But I hope it does.

We can’t choose our parents, but man I thought it would be easier at age 30 to get along with them. It’s not. It feels harder .. it’s draining and exhausting.


I’m currently house and pet sitting. The dogs like to remind me that they hate me and miss their owners by pissing in every corner that closely resembles a ‘tower’. I am unhappy about this, but I cannot make them stop pissing. Oh, there was also a poop as well, nicely left on the carpet.

Also, I love my cat. She doesn’t piss everywhere or yell at me.  I feed her, she’s satiated. I pet her, she’s satiated. I play with her, she’s satiated.


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