Greatness Among Us

You know, I didn’t realize it, but we have royalty among us commoners at my humble abode.  Although, if I had been paying attention, I would have noticed sooner. I mean the evidence has been there, right under my nose and on my clothes, this entire time. It became evident the other day though as I was vacuuming said evidence off my couch.

May I present for your worship and adoration, ‘Shaylee the First, Her Royal Highness of Savagery and Grace, Defender of Her Realm, Queen of the Pillow Mountain and Surrounding Territories.’

royalty, in the flesh. bow down, peasant! you’re making an awful lot of noise with the vacuum cleaner, you know. i can’t really nap with all of the racket going on.

 

peasant! what are you doing, peasant!? more importantly, where are the treats!? i’m royalty after all. you’re still vacuuming? what the hell, peasant!? i want treats!

 

royalty is boring. i’m bored now. the peasant has failed to keep me entertained.

Peer Pressure

This might be surprising to you, but I talk to people. I talk to people at work and online and while I’m out and about. I know, right!? I’m just as shocked as you are. These conversations are varied and cover a lot of ground and generally work to highlight my social ineptness. People loooovvve to talk about their personal lives? Have you noticed that!?  Yeah. So anyway, I’ve been privy to a great deal more information that I would ever in my life want to know about people, but it’s not as though you could just cover your ears, yell NOOOOO and walk away. I’ve tried. I was told it was rude.

The one thing I find fascinating though is just how active people my age are… now I’m not yet ready for a senior living development but I’m also not a spring chicken. What the hell is a spring chicken anyway? Aren’t ALL chickens spring chickens, when you really think about it… I mean, given their own druthers, that’s when they would be born, just like with all birds, right? However, you might be interested to know, that it’s not a matter of when they’re born, but when they’re eaten that denotes a spring chicken. Go figure.

But I digress.

These people I talk to, they enjoy telling others about all their activities and accomplishments. I mean, of course they do, right? And they’re my age, just so we’ve made that clear. Rock climbing, mountain climbing, cross country skiing, extreme hiking… you name it, they do it.  And me? I’m over here trying to put on my underwear without toppling over. But nobody ever wants to hear about that.

Feline Musings for a Sunday Evening

It’s that time during your otherwise enjoyable Sunday evening when it hits you that the weekend is over and you’re trying desperately to hide from Monday but deep in your heart you know that it’s just going to come around no matter how hard you try to keep it at bay, it always does, and besides, your hiding spot has holes in it so no matter how quiet you are, Monday would see you anyway and then you remember that you’re a cat so who even cares about Mondays, and you breathe a sigh of relief cause being a cat is cool, and you decide you kinda like your new hiding spot despite the holes that give away your position and in fact, the holes make it interesting and at least you don’t have Monday to worry about cause, you know… you’re a cat. And cats are cool.