WHY I AM MISERABLE AT BEING ORGANIZED AND SUCCESSFUL: A story with CATS

Lucy aka "Boogalu"

In this post I will digress a bit. Last night I had the most ridiculously stupid and hilarious conversation with my boyfriend about our cats. It was totally random. And after this conversation I realized it was more evidence of how completely whacked out my brain is and probably a huge contributor to why my mothering and housekeeping skills are so wanting.

First I should give you some background information. We have 3 cats. And we often have conversations on their behalf. Each has a distinct voice and personality.

First is Lucy. She is nearly 17 years old and has been with me from kittenhood. This cat is getting very cuddly in her old age, but when my kids were little she hated them with a passion. She also never is fond of female cats, but will warm up to male ones, when she feels like it. She is very no nonsense and demanding, but sweet as can be too. She talks very straight forward and sounds a bit, I guess, like a truck stop waitress.

Pixie aka "Zoom Zoom Kitty"

Then we have Pixie. The Man adopted her already full grown so we don't know her exact age. She is probably 13 or 14. Pixie is very tiny and timid. She was declawed before he adopted her and she hates to have her feet touched. She did not know how to be a cat until my cats came around. She sometimes would play with her crinkle ball, but that was about it. She hated my cats at first and still barely tolerates Lucy. But she has found Winkie (the male) to be quite fun and chases him around a lot. And she has started to imitate his cuter behaviors. Mostly she keeps to herself, but if one of the other cats wants food when she is already eating she will give them a good old fashioned smack down. When Pixie talks it is very sweet and quiet, if somewhat indignant at times.

Winkie aka "Captain Fluffytail"

Finally there is Winkie. He is a black and white Maine Coon who is almost 4. I adopted him with his sister Tinkerbell who is not longer with us. I had not planned to adopt more than one kitty, but suddenly there was a fluffy tiny kitty rubbing against my foot. I picked him up and gasped in horror. He was missing an eye and I thought something had just happened. Nope, he was born that way. The one-eyed runt of the litter who started purring like mad the second I picked him up. Oh, you better believe I had to take him too. He is no longer a runt. As he neared 25 pounds we put him on a diet and he is now down to around 20. Still huge, but hopefully more healthy.  We tell people he is so big because he is just so full of love. As I type this he just hopped up on my lap purring. We talk for Winkie the most. In fact even my coworkers are familiar with his "voice" since I use it all the time there too. For some reason he sounds a lot like Patrick from Spongebob. I have no idea why and only recently noticed the similarity. We don't think he is stupid, but to us that is just how we think he talks.

So that brings us to the conversation. We were about to go to bed and The Man starts to laugh. I shouldn't have asked what it was about, but I did. He said, "What if the cats really could talk but actually sound nothing like we think they sound? Like, what if Winkie is actually all sophisticated?"

Well, there you go. Now I can't stop thinking about it myself. We spend the next little bit talking with a bit like Mr. Howe meets Mr. Darcy and cracking ourselves up. Then we move on to Pixie and start talking like some ex-con/gang member. Now we really started laughing. This lasted a half hour. What is wrong with me? This is what I spend my time thinking about? No wonder I am not independently wealthy yet.

FASHION IS HARD WHEN YOU HAVE NO BRAIN

Part of my quest to be better at things is to also be better at looking presentable in public. I think most moms, at least the ones I know, can relate to this. You spend so much time making your kids look nice that you just don't have time for yourself. I mean, I am happy when  don't accidentally find an unplucked chin hair that has been escaping my view for the last few months!

The biggest problem with trying to be presentable, at least for me, is that it starts from the ground up and sometimes even that is hard to get right. This is very well related by a good friend of mine in her most recent post, "This is not my Underwear," on her blog, Mommy Undressed. When I read this post a light bulb went off. Well, first I laughed hysterically. THEN a light bulb went off. I have had similar moments and I feel like sharing.

First off, let me say that I know we have ALL had our moments of socks that don't match, shirt not buttoned right, or hole in the armpit. And you know what? That's ok. I mean, we are raising the leaders of tomorrow. But sometimes we have those moments that surpass these little accidents and sadly I have had more than one.

Here are my top 3 worst foundation (as in the under structure) moments:

1. How many of you have noticed half way through your day, or even at the end, that you wore your underwear inside out all day? I imagine, and hope, that we have all been there. Today most underwear has no tags so it is easy to do. I have done it multiple times. In fact, I did it last week. But, one day, many years ago, I went to the bathroom at work to discover, for the first time, I had done this. The part I am most appalled by is that these were underwear with a tag and that were white on the inside with a print on the outside. Yet, I had no idea as I got dressed that I was putting them on wrong. 
2. While working in the library some years ago I was sitting in the back room having lunch when I glanced down at my cleavage. I do this a lot. I have great cleavage. That day I noticed that I had a cat hair sitting right at the apex of my cleavage. Not a big deal, really. When you own cats you are usually covered in their hair. I reached up to pick it off and gasped. I gasped so loud a coworker turned to see if I was ok. The cat hair was... ATTACHED. It was not a cat hair. I had a chest hair!!! And it had apparently gone unnoticed for some time!!
3. Also while working in the library, I would occasionally try to look somewhat presentable. My kids were 3 and 5 at this time so trying to look nice took a lot of effort. Most of the time I could wear jeans, but if there was a nice meeting or I had plans after work I would a skirt and tights. Most of the time I was very uncomfortable in tights. Even when they are the right size I tend to get some abdominal pain with anything slightly snug around the middle. On this particular day I was very comfortable and feeling pretty good about the obvious fact that I had lost some weight. Then I went to the bathroom and my whole world imploded. I was wearing maternity tights! They were not huge. In fact, they fit incredibly well. I was devastated. But I also have a good laugh every time I think about it. 

So there you go. Those three incidents are only the tip of the iceberg and completely why I have a hard time being fashionable. I can't even find the right tights!