Letting Sleeping Coon Cats Lie


Since I don’t have a camera, I can’t show you the 32 inch sprawl of a very contented coon cat as it sleeps between 2 piles of manuscripts. However, this is the look of said cat when awakened.

Ever have one of those days where you really, really should have stayed home?

 I have really, really got to stop trying to work the day after a pull, drill or fill.

 You’re probably wondering, “Really?”

 If I use that word one more time, I think I’m going to barf. Oh, wait…that’s the potato chips trying to go volcano. I knew I shouldn’t eat those crispy hunger-inducing morsels of chemical goodness, but they taste soooooo amazing when you’re stressed. They just don’t taste very good when they erupt into that mini-ocean called a toilet bowl.

You may be asking, “What could possibly be so bad you’d resort to eating potato chips?”

Most people can walk out the door after 3 hours of dental work, go home (or back to work), wait until the feeling comes into their face again and they’re fine the next day.

Not me. The next day felt like someone used my head as a battering ram, asked me to read alphabet soup boiling on the stove, and then split my head into a left (slash) right half with a cleaving axe.


The headache fairy with tools of his trade.
The one he used on me is on the right

I should know better than to try to think for 2 days after having local anesthetic. Why is it THAT’S the day I’m presented with the 8 font Times New Roman squiggle print 3-page contract from hell? Thank God my first request was, “Can you send this to me via email so I can read it with my text reader?”

Making sense of legaleze, the language of obfuscation, is like trying to catch a well oiled snake in a pool full of buttered spaghetti.  Why don’t they just say up front: 

“This document is so convoluted even we don’t understand what it means.”

There should be a law against ALL legaleze. I’ll believe that can happen the day there are laws written (and actually enforced) against unconstitutional laws.

That (and other requests to think) is what drove me to potato chip disaster.

You’d think it would be the teeth that hurt. The discomfort has migrated but it’s not much different than when I walked through the dental school door. I suppose there are some good things about the way local anesthetic effectively lays me out for a day or 2. I’ll jump off a cliff and parachute around a mountain with a guy I don’t know, but illegal drugs are OUT. I have a hard enough time living through the legal ones–like hydrocodone.

So today I’m cleaning off the part of my desk that the 20 pound coon cat hasn’t taken over.  I’m setting up a cat trap to entice him off my writing, washing dog bed covers and doing other mindless tasks that are hard to screw up.