This horrible cold snuck out of nowhere and has smacked me down. There is so much I need to do and I can barely summon enough energy to dress myself. I have 15 canvasses downstairs, backgrounds done, waiting for completion but they will have to wait I suppose.
I did drag my sorry ass out of bed yesterday because I had a teaching gig at U City schools, teaching to teachers, for their in service day. My teaching partner Karyl and I did our paste paper class and it was a lot of fun. The teachers seemed to truly enjoy the experience. From what they said, apparently their in-service days are frequently lectures or something that is totally unrelated to their jobs(which is a damn shame in my opinion). So they were quite excited to actually be doing art and making something that could later be adapted for their students.
And in other news, that cat poop continues. I can barely even talk about it I am so distressed. Each morning I walk downstairs with this dreaded anticipation over what I might find. It's not every day, but enough to be a real issue, I mean once is enough to be a real issue, shit on the rug is just not right. But we still haven't caught anyone in the act. I will say my focus has narrowed to Gilligan though and we made an appointment with the vet.
You see, Gil is simply not acting like himself. He is my buddy cat, always a Mama's boy, kind of ugly since he only has one eye, but of course I find him adorable. He is like the Walter Matthau of cats, a very scroungy curmudgeon, but oh so loveable. There was a time when I was in the insurance biz(claims mgt, believe it or not) and I had an employee named Gil, one of my first older employees, perhaps 20 years my senior. He was actually a lot like my cat Gil especially the curmudgeon part but I found it so odd to manage a person with the same name as one of the cats; I could barely write his perfomance appraisals with a straight face. Gil the cat, not my previous employee, is the one who plays nurse cat when you are sick, just sleeps on the foot of the bed the whole time you are ill. Even yesterday when I got home from class and had to lie down, he instantly knew I wasn't feeling well and curled up on my chest which was so sweet and like the old Gil. But otherwise he seems very mopey to me as if he were depressed about something. He walks around the house making a mournful sound and it is so pitiful. So we will have him checked out and make sure there is nothing going on from a physical standpoint.