And You Thought It Was All Knitting and Journaling

Thanks for all the suggestions for getting the cat to the vet. I especially like Karen's suggestion about putting his pillow in the bottom of the basket and gently lowering him into it before he pops his head up....

I gently remind readers that this is the cat that took down Thumper The Baby Rabbit under my dining room table. The cat who will snuggle in your lap for ten minutes as you gently stroke his head, then turn and take a quick bite out of you hand before stalking off. Picture the Tasmanian devil. 

We have searched the linen closet and discovered a bath sheet as big as a bed and as strong as linen. Volunteers are lined up, one for each corner, and we are planning an early morning intervention, as soon as he comes in for breakfast and his day long nap on one of our beds.

After delivering the suffocated swaddled cat to the vet, we will then take the tub o' hamsters to the pet store, where we will leave all the babies and the mother because my daughter is tired of being a baby nurse to her slutty hamster. However, we now know what business we are good at for our golden years: hamster wet nurses.

And lest those of you think that all my fun hijinks occur only at home, let me give you a glimpse into my high-powered law career:

Yesterday, after a full morning in court, followed by hanging around bitching and moaning with my friends about our horrible life, followed by a committee meeting where we hung around with colleagues bitching and moaning about our horrible life, I got back to my office around 2:30 with my bag lunch and tried to choke down a roast beef sandwich while I shoved onto the floor surveyed the piles of files left for me. I  discovered that I was given a trial for today, a petition that had to be filed within three days, and the usual residual paperwork that breeds at night  on my desk. I started getting that jaw-tightening headache and rapid breathing. I ransacked my desk - no chocolate.

My friend called to chat and I had to tell her I had to call her back tomorrow because I was so swamped. I convened my crisis unit - a fellow attorney, a para, (none of whom had any chocolate so who needs them!) and had a claim rep on the speaker phone,  and we began going through the evidence for the trial. One person researched the law and the rest of us plowed through the paperwork, and within minutes we discovered a major evidentiary problem. After further discussion in which I sat grabbing at my hair and trying to modulate my voice below a scream, the claim rep said she'd call us back in a few minutes after she did further investigation. We then tried to call the other claim rep on the file and were put into voice mail hell as the message told us the office was closed despite the fact that it was only 4:05 and we sat there and pressed phone buttons for five minutes until I smashed the receiver back down.

Then we started to smell smoke

Then the computers crashed.

Then the phones crashed.

The Fire alarm went off.

We were told to evaculate and huddled outside in the freezing cold, where we all bitched and moaned about our horrible lives.

Now it was 4:15.

After ten freaking minutes, the firemen arrived with adorned with helmets and axes and stormed our office to find a bag of Halloween caramel popcorn smoldering in the microwave.

My boss's face is pinched and harried. No one will admit to the craving for a later afternoon sugary carb.

We all troop back in. Somehow the servers are up again and we can go back on line. (Did I mention that when the computers crash we can't even make a phone call, let alone work?)

First claim rep calls back: settle, she says. Seconed claim rep is still incommunicado - settle we say.

Another para pops her head above her cubicle: your petition is busting, the other insurance company is insolvent.

Suddenly it is 4:30 and I can clear my desk.

I call my friend back. We bitch and moan about our  horrible lives for for 15 minutes.

I pack up my briefcase to leave. Before I walk out the door, I turn to my staff and thank them for their assistance, especially the anonymous person who burned the popcorn and filled the office with smoke, giving me a giant head ache and causing my daughter when I get home to ask what was burning. But before I leave, just before I get past our office's Target special fake Christmas tree, one of the para's calls out, "wait there's another trial on for tomorrow...." I toss my head sassily and in my best Scarlett O'Hara mode, I say, I'm going home -  "Tamarra is anothu day".