I'm sick. Blah

Ugh, I'm sick, sick, sick. I hate being sick. I am coughing so much my body aches. Teach told me last night that my coughing was giving him a headache. Gee, thanks.

Nah, I shouldn't be giving him a hard time. Well, not too hard. He's off of work right now due to back issues exacerbated by stress at work. He went to something like four doctors last week and he's seeing several more this week. On top of that, he has another cancer screening. His endo is on maternity leave, though, so we don't know when he's going to get the results of the scan.

Gah, excuse me while I go cough up a lung. :-(

Grumpy cat

One of my all time favorite pictures of Isabella

Jasper vs. the Water Fountain

Moment of Perfect Peace

I so rarely have these nowadays, what with Teach facing his second surgery in 7 months. However, one just hit me and I want to capture that feeling so maybe I'll remember what it was like when things get crazy again.

What's so odd is that I'm not really doing anything for myself at the moment. I'm actually marking essays for Teach. Nothing like trying to decipher a 5th grade history essay, let me tell you. But, I'm sitting here, listening to music ("Such Great Heights" by The Postal Service to be exact), reading an actually decent essay when I realize that I'm at complete peace. My foot is bouncing to the beat of the song, I have one cat sleeping within arms reach on the desk and the other 5 feet away, snoring in the easy chair. (Yes, she snores. Loudly.) I'm bewildered that I would feel peace at this moment but, for some reason, I do.

And it's really nice.

I Love My Furbabies

Okay, this is a really cheesy post about how much I love my cats so if you really aren't in the mood for gushing, please stop reading. I won't mind. Really.

I love my cats. They bring such joy and delight to my life. I don't care that I'm turning into a crazy cat lady, I really don't. I love the fact that I have living, breathing, sometimes cooperative, stuffed animals. I can hug them and squeeze them (but not name them George) and neither one has yet to put a claw in my eye. (Not that my stuffed animals ever did that either. That would have made for a REALLY disturbing childhood, I would think).

Anyway. Jasper is sacked out on the floor. At 7:24am. God! What a hard life he leads. Being unbearably and obnoxiously adorable is obviously a very tough job for him. Poor baby.

And Isabella is skulking around, trying to look tough but failing miserably. She's just to pretty. Hard to believe she used to be an alley cat. She's certainly my pretty woman!

Okay. I think I just made myself gag on that one. Blech, yeech, yuck. Good Lord, something just took over my cynical brain and turned me into a mushball.

Must. Go. Clense. Fight. The. Cuteness.