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So I have been sitting around with the flu this week thinking, dang: I want to write something because stuff is in my head, but I really don't feel inspired to write any fiction in one of the myriad of life-long works I have scattered around in various storage areas on the internet. Then today I was like, well duh, forget about your blog much?
Duh.
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Rain smells like
dreams I have had
purple violent skies
my elementary school
the occasional tornado that
I miraculously outrun
driving through deep water that
never quite makes the car flood
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I dunno what that is, poem or prose, but it's been tumbling around in my head since Thursday so I thought I better get it out before it either gets flushed or takes root.
I'm glad to be getting over the flu. The older I get, the harder these things hit me. I had to miss four days of work which to be perfectly honest, made me feel guilty. I know things like this happen, but I am not one of those lay out of work types. When I fell in 2005 I had about 25 sick days built up.
New cat introduction continues to be in the yellow alert area. Oliver occasionally chases Zooey but he does not seem to be trying to kick her butt. Zooey hisses and acts all mountain lion with him, but all it really amounts to is a lot of nostril flaring. I guess eventually they will get over one another and get on with life. I'll be glad when I don't hear the panther scream in the night as Zooey asserts herself when Ollie decides to take a little midnight stroll in her 'zone'.
Zooey is also one of those cats that will meow that throaty, God-awful loud " 'Ello! 'ELLO!" meow. She sounds like she's Cockney: 'Ellow, Guv'ner.
One more dose of zithromax and six more of Tamiflu. I ought to have the most germ/virus/bacteria - free blood in seven states by the time all of this has transpired.
