Cold Meds and Cat Training.

My nephew turned one last Friday and I was lucky enough to be able to make it up to spend the day with him Saturday.  Because I don't get to see him really consistently I think he forgets who I am sometimes between visits.  But then after a while he stops being shy and starts being my little buddy again.

The downside of the visit was that I spend a decent chunk of time driving and I didn't get enough sleep, so Monday I woke up with the cold that Yoshi had last week.  I am swimming in a sea of mucus.

Today was the first test in my economics class and I got to play the medicine vs. test game.  You know, the one where you have to figure out how much medicine to take in order to not have to blow your nose a bajillion times or drip snot on your test but also maintain the highest level of cognitive function possible with a cold.

It's especially bad for me because my medication tolerance is pretty nonexistent.

How nonexistent, you ask?  Well, if I take Nyquil colors are brighter for almost the entire next day.  Nyquil, Dayquil, and Sudafed all make my heartbeat super erratic.  It might be a little worse than coffee, but without the armpit sweats coffee gives me.

I took Sudafed after I was home for the night (so around 3:30) and then needed to not leave the couch or engage in any in-depth conversation for a while because words are hard and colors are pretty.

I took half a dose again like two hours ago when I woke up from a much-needed nap and I honestly don't know how I'm typing cohesive sentences right now.  But if I had to speak words that made as much sense as I think what I'm typing does, I couldn't.

I'm not that great at verbal communication anyway, but when my pupils are this dilated I just seem like a crazy stoner.

In light of my bad response to cold medication and actual cold, I realize that this week was not a good week to start training my cats to sleep through the night.  But it's too late to go back now.

The hardest part right now is not just letting them out at five in the morning when they decide they want to have a snack, poop, and then come back inside 20 minutes later.

The second hardest thing is the transition from free-feeding to regularly scheduled feedings.  I've never fed cats on a schedule; all of my cats, even when I was a kid, were free-fed.  Hunter and Sammy really don't eat that much, so the combination of those two things made me feel as though free-feeding was okay.  But in order to get them on a specific schedule I need to feed them at a specific time.  Which sucks, in a way, because sometimes I can't be home at consistently the same time every day, but in the end will be a good change.  They need a better schedule.

Because they're used to being free-fed, though, they keep trying to let me know that the bowl is empty.  I go in the kitchen.  Hunter runs in and gives me this look of blame, then looks at the food dish.

"Mom! Where's the food?  I will starve to death if I can't see that the bowl is full at all times..."

Silly kitty.

I've also begun walking them on leashes and harnesses.  We've only been out twice so far and it's still slow-going, especially with Sammy.  But there was definitely a big improvement between the first time they went out and the second, so I'm hopeful.

The looks I get from some of my neighbors are entertaining.  The women and children are entertained and think it's cute.  The middle-aged Mexican man that took his teenage daughter to buy a soda from the machine yesterday obviously thought I was nuts.

The thing is that I just can't bring myself to let my cats be indoor outdoor, especially where I live now.  But probably not ever.  After our cat got killed by a coyote when I was in fourth grade I didn't want to lose a cat like that ever again.  And statistically, cats live markedly longer, like almost three times as long, as indoor cats than they do as indoor/outdoor cats.  My cats are my babies.  I couldn't handle it if something happened to them that could have been prevented by keeping them as indoor only pets.

Also, you never know where cats go and it would gross me out to let them be in my bed without knowing where they'd been all day.

At least if I walk them they get to go outside and explore and be cats, but I know they're safer than they would be outside on their own.  Plus, they don't have to spend all day cooped up in the apartment and it makes them more tired, so they're happier and more likely to sleep through the night.

Yes, I know I'm basically a crazy old cat lady at this point.

No, I don't care.

Not even a little.

Food for Thought. And Also Some Stuff About Drugs.

Fun fact about me: I love stand up comedy.

I'm glad that Yoshi and my roommate enjoy it, as well, because I used to watch it by myself when no one else was home and I appreciate that I can share it with them now instead of holing up in my room like an addict waiting for everyone else to disappear so they can shoot up and watch some internet porn.

Actually, I don't know if that would be a normal thing for an addict to do.

Everything I know about cocaine I learned from Pulp Fiction, Scarface, and a story someone told me about Mexico once.

I saw a heroine addict once outside an Oakland A's baseball game (which I'm glad my dad also remembers and brought up last year because I was starting to think maybe that didn't happen) and he just wanted people to give him their $20 instead of buying a hot dog.  I was also pretty sure that if he touched me or coughed/sneezed in my general direction my skin would melt off, though, so I let my dad walk on that side.

Not because I was younger and figured it was better than the older member of the herd had less skin than me, but because my dad is from the bay area and also a badass, so I thought if the homeless heroine guy coughed on him my dad would Chuck Norris that shit and the air the guy breathed toward him would bounce off his skin and change into some kind of Native American knockout gas.  Or, like, regular air.

I don't think my dad knows this (which makes sense because I was always kind of a huge asshole to him), but for most of my life I was pretty sure he was some kind of magician or superhero.  Freewayman, the truck driving magician who could fix anything, make awesome food, and also made almost everything possible for his little girl.

But that's another post.

I know stuff about meth addicts and alcoholics, but that's because I grew up in Shasta County and I know what it means when someone looks a little tweaky and has no teeth.

I have a lot of guy friends, though, so I do know what someone who is hiding internet porn looks like.

Anyway, so I've been watching this Iliza Schlesinger special and it is amazing.

It's on Netflix.  If you like stand-up you should watch it.  Especially if you are a woman.

There is a section on things women do while drinking and on dates.  And one of the bits is about how women don't really eat on dates until they're actually in a relationship.  Which I know must be a thing because of how often it's referenced in popular culture, but I don't understand it because I've never done that.

Granted, I'm not the smallest person right now.  But even when I was much skinnier I don't remember going on a date with a guy and getting a salad just because I didn't want him to see me eat or because I thought he'd think I was disgusting if I actually consumed food.

I always figured that I like to eat and if a guy doesn't like it when a girl eats he should probably go to Macy's and date one of the mannequins there that looks like a prepubescent teenage boy with blue hair.

Even super skinny girls have to eat more than a stick of gum in a day and if you're willing to invite me to come to a restaurant with you where you will buy me whatever I want to eat, then I am getting more than a side salad and water.

The only reason I don't order steak is that I don't like steak.  But if you're buying my dinner and I want to eat chicken for three days I will order a whole chicken and you will pay for it.

I don't do this anymore, but it's only because with my boyfriend it's more like I'm spending "our" money so I feel bad if I order a $26 dinner.  I don't want to buy that for myself when I can make it at home for less.

Anyway, the moral of this post is that girls should eat on dates if they're not.  Hypoglycemia leads to crankiness and trying to bring up your blood sugar with the drop of cranberry juice in a cosmo could be more embarrassing/destructive than him seeing you with pepper in your teeth.

Also, if you fill up on chicken instead of liquor you won't accidentally have sloppy mistake drunk sex with your date and potentially get pregnant.

Eat on dates so you don't get pregnant, ladies.

Epiphany.

I think...  My parents accept me more completely as an adult than I do myself.

Mini Update, Now With Cat Barf.

Yoshi didn't sleep last night because he was too stressed out.  He was such a delight before he left for work at noon...

Actually, he left in a bit of a huff.  He more or less stormed out (because he was frustrated with himself, not me) and I had enough time to walk to the dining room from the front door before Sammy started violently throwing up down the hallway.

Okay, well it sounded violent.  It was pretty much contained to one area.  It's not like he projectile-vomited all over the entire hallway.

I'm not positive cats even projectile vomit.

Though, if they do, I never want to see it.

Ever.

It felt like Yoshi got upset, left, and then Sammy thought, "oh, Dad's upset.  Now I'm upset.  Bleghhhh."

So, yeah.

I think Yoshi is just having some really bad hormones this week.  It's been rainy and he doesn't do as well with that as he thinks he does, which is a shame because I'm generally happier when it's raining.  Today is overcast and he always feels off when it's just cloudy.

Also, I am experiencing all of the hormones from my period and that makes him pretty edgy.  Usually he gets his PMS before mine so I can kind of tell when my period will occur.  This time he started being weird at the same time I did, so that explains a lot of the issues we had during our Sonoma trip last weekend.

For the entire first day it was like we just couldn't click.  I don't like that because road trips are when we are happiest together.  I think because we hate living in Modesto so much that just getting in the car and going for a short drive makes us happy.

All in all, though, that was a pretty great trip.

Hopefully today gets better.  I'm working on a sweater for my nephew and I'm very excited about it because I've never actually made a sweater before.  Should be fine, though.