Work was definitely better today. I finally started getting some much-delayed closure (as they say in the therapy biz) on some itineraries that have taken a great deal of research. I have nearly completed two Round The World tickets to Australia, Thailand, and Britain, including some land arrangements along the way, I finally ticketed a fiendishly complex European flight itinerary that I've been working on for two weeks, and I turned in all of last week's paperwork at the last possible moment today. I'm now working in this week! Waaaaaahoo!
Okay, it's not that exciting to you, but it makes me feel about a thousand pounds lighter in the soul to be putting together tickets that were only run 24 hours ago instead of 96. It doesn't affect my clients if I don't get their paperwork turned in the same day, because they're using electronic tickets and don't have to have anything in hand to get on the plane, but I dread losing track of something important when things get that far behind.
My soul was momentarily blighted when I got home and saw that Dixie had trod on my snapdragons and ruined the three on the end. I can't be sure it was her, of course. It could have been some other heavy-footed creature who stays in the backyard all day while we're at work (the cats are inside, mind). I've been putting off erecting the little wire fence around the large container where I've done most of my planting because I wasn't through in there yet, and it will be a lot more difficult to work bent over a foot-tall fence. I knew I should have done it, though. The cats have been using the freshly turned earth as a litterbox when I'm not looking, and Dixie never gives up hope of finding a new, better place to lie down. I think she wedged herself in there today despite the plantings, turned around once or twice (leading to the demise of the snapdragons), and then exited when she decided there really wasn't enough room. I feel quite sick about it. They were just about to bloom. And it's entirely my fault for not putting up the fencing.
Happily, I was restored by the news that Ceej has gotten us good tickets to Sunday's Giants-Rockies game at Candlestick. I am really excited about seeing the Giants play again. Unfortunately, they keep losing players; Barry Bonds is out for 10 weeks recovering from surgery, and third baseman Charlie Hayes has been suspended for four games due to brawling with Arizona's Todd Stottlemyre. Schmuck.
I cheered up so much I made myself an elegantly simply dinner consisting of a bologna sandwich (I hate cooking during the week) and decided I'd had enough of Natasha's spring fur problems. She gets terribly matted when she starts shedding, being a long-haired cat, and she loathes being brushed. If I brush her she starts sounding like a fire engine: "rrrrrrrRRRRRRRrrrrrrr" until finally she lashes out and clouts me, then runs away. So I got out the scissors and plopped her on my lap. She was so stunned she lay there on her back for several minutes while I snipped away at the cloud of fur around her bum. It's a job only a mother, or a professional groomer, would do. She didn't struggle too much until I had to wiggle her tail around to get at the fur underneath and on her tummy. Eventually the fire engine noises started so I let her go. She looks a lot better from behind. Well, relatively speaking. She looks like a lunatic with scissors snipped randomly at the fur, but she looks more sanitary.
It's times like these I wish I'd gotten a fish for a pet.
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