Clean Sheets

Ahhh, days off. I think I did 27 loads of wash today, and went on a cleaning rampage that would make my mother-in-law proud. It was actually a languid rampage, as I drank a beer, chased it with a margarita, and capped off the night with a glass of red wine.

But I have clean sheets, and I am very excited about that. I normally don't get too excited about clean sheets, because the way it has been around here, I will wash the sheets and they will sit for three days because I am too tired when I get home to make the bed. I am ashamed to admit, but I have wrapped myself in a blanket and slept on the mattress pad. Today, however, the sheets got washed and the bed was made instantly, and I can't wait to jump into their bleachy, fabric softener freshness.

I am also trying to stay busy because my youngest cat is missing, and I am trying not to to dwell on it. Cats are natural prowlers, and she is probably off doing her kitty thing. Part of me thinks that this is punishment for her avian atrocities committed last week, and there may be a family of finches out there holding her hostage. The Rev. has not been comforting, and I quote:

1. "Maybe she is dead." My response to this was, "And you actually counsel people?"

2. "I didn't see any smushed kitties on the way home from church."

3. "Maybe a dog got her."

I understand two things about this man. One, he is trying to do me a favor and tell me the truth, albeit in a neanderthal, clueless guy sort of way. Two, he is a dog man. What else am I supposed to expect? I'll keep you posted.