Crystals

Forgive me for a non-Friday cat-related posting, but my poor cat, Joey, is at the vet’s tonight because he refuses to pee.  Crystals in the urine, the vet says.  Hubby is as upset as I am–he had to leave the poor kitty there in a cage and that moved him more than he thought it would.  You see, Joey is the kitty who showed up at our house on the day we were married over 7 years ago: he has much sentimental value, in addition to being a hoot as a cat.

We get to pick him up in the morning after he pees, IF he pees.

And I am rushing to get the usual stuff done before flying on Wednesday in the dawn’s early light to another city far, far, away for a 2-day meeting (and 2 days of seeing friends/family). I still need to finish grading essays, teach 2 classes tomorrow, meet with my chair about a thing, meet with some students during office hours, check the weather in this city, and figure out how to pack for 4 days in one carry on.

I’m surprisingly not nearly as stressed as I usually am about such things, which means my stress level is only slightly frantic. Must be that left over cognac.

The Cat Ate My Blog Posting

Really. It’s true. I had a perfectly good blog posting up here yesterday–not great, and maybe even a little dull (a comparative analysis of meeting themes from the past to themes from the present round of meetings), but perfectly good in other ways–and now, shazam! It’s gone.

I’m blaming the cat. Yes, it’s not catblogging Friday yet, but still.  Who else can I blame? 

Well, I suppose I could blame the IT department: the 12 faculty in this newly renovated old building would like to be able to actually print stuff for classes that begin next week, but it seems a little Gremlin is in the network, and printing is a hit or miss activity this week. Sometimes I can print, sometimes I can’t.  (And yes, I’m looking for a pattern: perhaps some of my creations aren’t worthy of printing, according to the printing gods/goddesses?)

I suppose I could also blame the electricians who have been working (ceaselessly) on this renovated old building for what seems to be way past the time that they should be working on this old building (now, I could be wrong but shouldn’t the electrical work be done before the walls are put up?).

Or I could blame the poor gas men, who took over my office for a few days to get into my ceiling to install a gas line (for the gas fireplace that is in the upstairs “student lounge”–right above my head).  They did a fine job, even cleaned up, but for some reason kept leaving me emails  saying that they were sorry, but they couldn’t lock my office door with their key.  I kindly replied that all they needed to do was to push in the button on the inside door handle.

These are the men in charge of installing the GAS lines.

But no, I’m thinking of blaming the cat (either mine or Dr. Crazy’s fabulously lazy cat). Why not? What does he care?

And no, I don’t think I’ll bother recreating that lost post. Clearly the gods who don’t want me to print my composition syllabus, don’t want me to post that posting. Fine.