Pretending your a cat day

Today, we start the night shifts at work. They’ve been shuffling people around to other community papers and decided not to rehire the positions where there are holes – ununionized us – we get to fill the holes on top of our normal jobs without extra pay. I’d say the jobs the designers are filling has bumped up to about 3. I go in today at 3:30pm and leave around midnight and then get up Tuesday like it’s a normal day. Happy Happy!
But I’m going to take advantage of the afternoon I do have. It’s going to be 86 today and sunny and beautiful. There are no clouds and dozens of birds. My yard is filled with dandelion suns, wet laundry and hungry sparrows. Tula’s watching them, half awake, undecided if she wants to charge the screen or sleep.
I’m going to work on my poems and continue to arrange them into something. I ate pumpkin bread for breakfast on a used plate and couldn’t lick the crumbs because I’m not sure which crumbs were yesterday’s. I have a therapy appointment today and don’t particularly want to go, but I can tell people are getting sick of hearing about my problems, or maybe I’m getting sick of hearing about my problems, so I’m going.
Still no news about any more Lit mags – From November to now, all the submissions are mished in submishmash or junk mail folders and I’m getting impatient at how slow this whole process is.

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