Monday’s Theme Music

They’d drained all the color out of the sky today. A light is blinking somewhere, highlighting an error message that says, “Your sky’s color cartridges are out of ink.”

Congratulations everyone, we did it, we’ve survived another weekend, reached another Monday milestone. I’ve gone through 247,800 Mondays, myself. Don’t remember many of them, TBH.

Today is April 25, 2022. Sunrise reached us at 6:15 AM and Sol will take its bow and leave our stage at 8:03 PM. It’s 50 F and comfortable now. No rain or snow is in the forecast for this day, and a high of the upper sixties remains in the deck as a possibility. Will we reach it? Very likely.

Papi, the young ginger feline who cofloofbitates with us, inspired today’s song. He was rapping on the door for entrance last night. I opened it to let him in. He starts in, checks up and swirls around, staring into the dark. I look out there and see nothing. “What is it, buddy?” Lights on turned on. Papi’s tail swishes, then goes still. He lowers himself. I don’t see a damn thing. Papi turns and does a hurried job into the house a few feet, and then turns and looks out again, and then sits. Tired of the drama, I close the door, telling him, “Yes, you’re in. You’re safe and sound now.”

The neurons, which often act up, said, “Playing Safe and Sound by Capital Cities.” The music kicked in before I could protest and remains playing in the morning mental music stream.

So here we go. Stay positive, test negative, and respect the CDC and health officials’ recommendations as we continue coping with COVID-19 spikes and variants. Here’s the music. The neurons say, “Go get coffee.” Who am I to argue?

Cheers

Floof Chest

Floof Chest (floofinition) – 1. Box or crate where animal toys or supplies are kept.

In use: “In many households, the traditional floof chest has been replaced by a floof drawer, floof cupboard, or even a floof closet, as homes add animals, toys, supplies, and leashes.”

2. Stiffness or discomfort incurred by an animal sleeping on someone’s upper body.

In use: “Sophia had a mild case of floof chest after she let her new puppy sleep on her all afternoon.”

Sunday’s Theme Music

Quiet day has come. Although it’s quiet right here right now (cue Jesus Jones and van Halen for the neurons – although the Jesus Jones song is “Right Here Right Now”, the van Halen song is always conflated because my late buddy Randy always knew “Right Now” but didn’t know “Right Here Right Now”, see?), news stories echo through the head. Several were about shootings or outrageous driving (and their results). This weekend also brought several tales about boats capsizing and people drowning. Was it always so crazy? some of the neurons ask.

It’s Sunday, April 24, 2022. Getting the calendar right requires a look down at the computer screen’s corner. Writing does that to me. Get deep into it, and then suddenly, I become confused about dates, time, food. I end up walking with Homer Simpson and Randy Newman singing “Left Foot, Right Foot” in my mind.

It’s forty now but the weather folks say that we’re heading to 71 F today. It’s a believable claim, when I peer at the cloudless blue sky. Sunshine is flashing off everything. Weather, though, can be deceptive, promising you, “Yeah, it’s warm and sunny out here,” then cutting off body parts with an icy knife when you step out to enjoy the invitation. Weather thinks humans are as dumb as the cats. The cats aren’t dumb about the weather, but they have short memories. Plus, whenever the weather isn’t to their liking, they blame me with stony gazes and tails curled up against their bodies.

I’ve always wondered how well that tail-curling really works to keep them warm. I bet some scientist has studied it. I’ll also bet that someday we’ll have genetic modifications that allow us to have tails, and there will be people walking around with tails hanging out. I’ll probably be dead by then, though, so I’ll need to haunt the planet until it happens.

Sunrise was at 6:16 AM. Sunset will be at 8:02 PM. Rain is expected later this week and the temperatures are gonna crash again. Get out and suck up some vitamin D while you can, if you’re in this area.

Turning to sports, the neurons have a firm hold on “Right Now” by van Halen from For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge, 1992, and are relentlessly playing it around snatches of “Right Here Right Now” in the morning mental music stream. I gotta get off this crazy thing.

Stay positive, etc. Just read of a COVID-19 outbreak from a prom, but everyone’s symptoms were mild or they were asymptomatic. You never know when a new variant will unleash though, do you?

I need coffee. Here’s the music. RIP Eddie. He and Valerie had such great hair. Cheers

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