by El Zorro Viejo (aka; Jim)

Well, my better half is off to Florida for a week. Her aunt came down from Maine (via Greyhound because she didn't want to fly alone), and then they both flew off to visit my sister-in-law and husband for said week. I'm not sure what I'm gonna do other than take care of the granddaughter and go to work while she's gone. It isn't fair. I should have the week off to totally slob out. Here I have a whole week without her gentle nags to get things done, and I still have soooo much to do. Hell, she didn't even take the cats with her so I have to feed them twice a day.

Aside: You have to understand that ours is probably the only household in the world that we can't let our cats feed themselves. Most places you stick out food and then let the little monsters eat when they're hungry. Not here. Because we have a Zack. Zack, also known as the cancer patient--he is not given all that long to live, but he doesn't know that so...--, eats anything and everything left within his reach. A two day supply of dry food for the normal cat? Gone in sixty seconds! All of which means I have to feed them little teeny meals two or three times a day. This is not a vacation. Nor is the fact that this food goes through them like grass through a goose and ends in one of three kitty pans that have to be emptied daily. It is a little galling to know that, at this advanced stage of my life, I am, in part, a bathroom attendant for cats. Bleah!

And now I have to stop doing this to get ready for work because I work weekends so that I can take care of the baby/toddler during the week. Nope, this is definitely not a vacation for me...

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