“Yes, I’m up. I am. I’m awake. Really.”
I worked really late last night and the kitties patiently kept me company. Tigger in his usual spot, sprawled on my desk, some part of him behind the screen, Zizi napping in my closet. Or so I thought.
When I finished, Tigger struggled to snap out of his snoozey state; he sat up even, but kept falling back asleep.
Meanwhile, Zizi had not been wasting time napping. She had assiduously shredded all the toilet paper in my bathroom. She likes to perch on the toilet seat lid, balancing on her one hind leg and her tail, and use her front paws to shred maniacally.
Looking mega sheepish, the culprit darted away and hid under the sofa, so I didn’t get a photo of her in action. I did laugh as much as I was annoyed with her.
I thought I’d spare you the view of the loo. Let’s just say it looks like a sci fi film set. There is toilet paper in three rooms. I let it be, she can play with it, but the loo is now totally out of bounds to her. Grr.
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I’ve been ‘home’ for one year. A whole year!
That happened sometime late last night and I was too frazzled to even think about it. Walking with my mother this evening before dinner, discussing my impending move to Bombay later in March, I stopped in my tracks at the realization that I’ve made it through an entire year — relatively unscathed! I can’t even begin to enumerate all the great things that have happened to me and the awesome people I’ve met, the fabulous stuff I’ve learned, done, and become a part of … not to mention the amount of street food I’ve savored… (I’m going to gloss over the crap radio job, the horrid winter, the awful allergies/ migraines/ bureaucracies/ roads …). And to make it all seem most fitting, today, I was given my first fortune cookie since I left America. And it read “You will have new adventures!” No $%*#, Sherlock! HAH!