I was up at 3 a. m., but not because of existential angst and fear for my guilty soul. Ants were invading the cat plate. I was on a bathroom run, eager to fall back into bed and fall back to sleep, but I felt this odd need to flash a light on the cat plate in the kitchen. I have left a plate of food on the floor there countless times over the years whenever a cat is staying in for the night and have been impressed that the ants have never gotten to it. Yet, I suspected the gig might be up. We have been hit by ants hard in recent weeks. I was right to be worried. Cleaning that up stimulated me enough to make sleep a practical impossibility in the near-term. And I thought five o'clock mornings were bad!
Jun. 4th, 2017
The head of household next door is shouting at the beaten-down dog again. Why can't he just pet him and say "It's okay, it's okay" or even "I love you"? That dog is not hard to love. Why couldn't you at least like him a little, show him a little more affection than you would to a filthy, diseased rat? You don't even give him a cushion to lie down on but make him lay on bricks.