Cotton Swabs & Crocodile Tears

This morning as I was preparing myself for my day, I stood in front of my bathroom mirror and began the spackle and plaster process. I'm pretty efficient when it comes to getting ready in the morning ... and by efficient, I mean I really don't give a crap lately. It's a sign of the time of year for me  - I don't tend to fare well during this particular time of year (this is not really the subject of my post today, though).

During my prep routine, there is a natural clock in my head that tells me to clean (the shit) out(ta) my ears every three days. I don't do it consciously ... it's a natural reflex-type action. Like my ears suddenly take on an urgent sense about themselves (yes - I have rather obviously ignored the 'resistance' felt upon sticking said cotton swab too far into my ear ... like you didn't already know this).

For the entire time my cat Chloe lived with us, she used to jump up on the counter and insist on being loved while I was getting ready. (The ONLY time of day, mind you) On every 'third' day ... she would have an excitement about her that took a little while for me to figure out. What I learned was that my cat loved cotton swabs. I keep mine in a glass canister with a pull off top. Now and again, I would sit it down on the counter  uncovered. She would reach her pretty little paw inside and retrieve her very own swab. At which point, she'd send it flipping over her body (sometimes over my shoulder) and onto the floor. It was rather funny to watch her playing with one of these things. It gave her great amusement ... not to mention kept her occupied while I finished getting ready.

In the weeks following her demise, I found I missed her most in the mornings. I don't cope well with death (in case anybody hasn't noticed). It's hard for me to get over that sort of loss - even when it is just a pet. She was a part of our every day lives and we all loved her... me above all, I think.

This morning for some crazy reason, the sight of the open Q-tip canister reduced me to a slobbering teary mess. I don't know what prompted the outburst - perhaps just that I was not distracted by getting children ready for school (inservice) ... I'm really unsure why this still effects me so fiercely, but there I was  - blubbering like a ... middle-aged-freak-show-of-a-woman-crying-over-her-dead-cat (I don't know what else cries like that). Make up ruined ... mascara streaking down my cheeks. Purdy.

I don't really have a moral to share here. Just a dumb story so I can say I blogged today. That sadness didn't stick with me too badly throughout my day. I have maintained an impish demeanour for the best part of it. It's been somewhat busy and I have not been able to spend much time reading up on my favorite bloggy peeps. Oh well, there's always tonight :).

I am missing my Americum friends ... I know where Mark is ... and he is excused from this comment ... Spot?? Where you at? Huh? I haven't had to get through two days without you for quite some time ... I'm missin' ya, girl... and Geep? I'm afraid I may have lost Geep.

I know, I know - Thanksgiving is a REALLY BIG DEAL in the States. Here, we get a long weekend (well - some of us do) and stuff ourselves with turkey, ham, stuffing and gravey ... and that's that. We don't get "Black Friday" ... and we certainly don't get any 4 day weekends - EVER... do you hear my jealous??

Anyhoo - I guess that's as much babbling as I'm gonna do today... well here anyway.

Later.