Having the Easter weekend followed by ANZAC Day on the following Friday most definitely punched enormous holes in my sense of time during the week, especially since I worked on the reception desk all day on Tuesday and didn't then go into work as usual on Wednesday. For most of last week I had no idea what day it was, nor what I was supposed to be doing.
It didn't help at all that I did my Japanese lessons on funny days as well.
I did, however, remember to go to work on Tuesday, which was a good start. After that I don't suppose it really mattered which day it was, and I set alerts to remind me to do my Japanese lessons.
The weather has turned its attention to autumn. It may even be contemplating winter. It's been cold and damp, cold and drizzly, cold and foggy, cold and wet pretty much since Easter. This probably wouldn't have bothered me, except that I had another skip delivered on Thursday and I mostly had garden things in mind for it. I also seriously overestimated what I could move all on my own! By this morning, the skip was half full - if I were being generous. It's not absolutely full now, but at least it looks as though I've made a bit of an effort. It's being picked up at some point on Thursday and I'm at work tomorrow so I don't have much time left to put more in it. I am going to have to get another one, preferably when there is someone here to help smash things up and then to help me carry them.
Brandy threw a spanner in the works by becoming unwell on Saturday. I didn't know what was wrong with him but he stopped eating (not a good sign in my tiny, little cat who LOVES eating), kept crying, and hid under the couch, under the bed, in a corner, under a chair. On Saturday evening I thought he might be feeling better because he stopped crying and came and lay on the couch with me when I sat down to watch TV. He slept on the bed overnight. But then on Sunday morning he started crying again and hid under the bed and wouldn't come out.
Fortunately, my vet clinic runs an "emergency" surgery on Sundays, so I rang and got an appointment for him. Getting there was complicated by road closures for the Ballarat marathon, which my sat nav didn't seem to know about. Again fortunately, I have lived in Ballarat long enough to know my way around alternative routes and managed to get there exactly on time for the appointment. The vet didn't really know what was wrong with him and, of course, he wasn't doing his dying swan act while we were there. So she gave him an anti-nausea injection and an appetite stimulant tablet and we came home - after I had paid $410 for the privilege. (I knew it would be about that much; they had told me when I rang that there was a significant Sunday surcharge.)
He still didn't eat anything when we got home but at least he spent the rest of the day on the couch and not under it, and he wasn't crying anymore. Later in the afternoon I took him over to the water bowl, which he drank dry. He woke up yesterday morning and had another big drink and a bit later decided that perhaps after all he felt well enough for a soupçon of breakfast, maybe also a sliver of cheese - oh, and while you're using the butter I'll have some of that too, please.
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Brandy, feeling a bit better and enjoying the heated blanket on the couch |
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Whiskey, enjoying the fact that I had lit the fire |
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That cat bed really isn't big enough for two cats and they both want to sleep in it! |