Fly Me to the Moon - The Ballad of Darth Kitten

Sunday - What is with this cat?  Anakin Skywalker, my 7-year old kitty, abandoned by his cat mother at the age of 2 weeks, on the side of this house, Last Cat Standing since I lost Ira in August - this previously normal cat, affectionate at times, coolly independent most of the time - has turned into a dog.  This cat won't let me sleep, he won't let me type on the iPad - he only wants to stand on me or the keyboard, or he wants to sit in my lap, occasionally reaching out with a paw to pet me, purring madly the whole time.  The Force is strong with this one.

I lost an hour today and I am pissed.  This daylight savings thing always skews my chi and confuses the hell out of my operating system (the one between my ears).  Same thing happens when I cross into another time zone.  I suffer from jet lag when we drive to Panama City, because some idiot decided to bifurcate Florida into two time zones.  Fly me to the Moon - or say, Portland, Oregon - and I am completely wasted for a week.

The itching in my left hand is so bad I took a Hydroxyzine during the day, which I normally never do, because it makes me drowsy.  Fortunately, I'm not driving today, nor am I engaged in the practice of law.  Depressingly, my normal Sunday shopping routine has totally knocked me out.  There will be no cooking today.  Oh yes there will.  I made Robert an omelet for dinner.  I love making omelets.  He loves eating omelets.  I love omelets for dinner.  I grew up eating these fabulous kosher salami omelets for dinner. Good memories.

Tomorrow begins my first full week on leave.  Part of me is relieved to be dodging the stress bullet.  The other part of me that likes to be in control, is upset that my life has come to this.  The New York subway rider in me is feeling vindictive.  Oops.  Can't let her (me) take control of the situation. This is, after all, juvenile court in Kissimmee, not the "A" train during rush hour.

I think it would be very easy to sink into a deep, dark depression because I cannot go to work. I have to stay engaged in activities that are within my physical and mental limitations.  I have to plan ahead for each day.  I have to make lists.  I have to feel useful.  I have to follow up with all my doctor and lab appointments.  I have to pray, not for me but for all the other people, friends and family, who are facing acute medical issues that are, to my mind, worse than what I am dealing with.  There are so many of them, all ages, so many different situations. Life is not only not fair, it is batsh*t crazy.  The people I pray for do not deserve to suffer.

Oh geez, the cat is back ...