Monday, August 31, 2009


Since I knew our house would be chaos while we were packing, I sent Jim back to the paternal nest about a week in advance. C and I then spent the next eight days mistaking every black sweater and rustle for the damn cat, and feeling sad when we remembered: no Jim.

Back on the home front, Jim was not his annoying self. He didn't complain, he was nice to Zaphod, (old and decrepit cat) he didn't seem too interested in the world outside... When I showed up today, my mom told me how good he'd been while he sniffed me, hopped on my lap so I could crush his ears, and wandered off toward the living room. He used to be pretty effusive when we showed up after an absence- I figured he was growing to trust that we'd come back.

There he hunched in the shadow of the stairs overlooking Zaphod's preferred path through the house. Fifteen minutes later, Zaphod sauntered in to receive his chin rubbing- and Jim lept onto the ground just in front of him. Presumably he was yelling, "I'm not alone now, so EAT IT OLD MAN!"

Since then there have been three further ambushes, he's found tasty grass, several great hiding places, and four kittens in the backyard (GLEE), and he's managed to get stuck on the neighbor's roof. Twice.

Right now he's sitting on my hands.

Sunday, August 30, 2009

I'll be filing for unemployment soon- which requires 18 months of pay stubs. I've been casting around for some way to prove I've worked for the last year while packing. Oh god, the packing. Anyways, I found my pay stubs from my last job neatly filed, in order by date, next to the pay stubs from the job before, neatly filed by date. In the next folder, W2s from like six years. Whereas I have all the datasheets from a year of work crammed in a shoebox, half finished.

Sometimes I think I was an entirely different person up north.