Well, I ran up to see the fam before we officially started the fall here (shorter version: they're good; dad's getting weaker; there's a new Panera nearby; it has wireless but not in an accessible form; the new Italian place has good lasagna but not as good as mom's steak which we had the next night; I watched 6 hours of House back to back instead of my usual Law and Order marathon; which was meh but must be done when one only comes in contact with tv every few months; I got no work done and omigod omigod omigod I am so behind hyperventilate hyperventilate; the drive back was boring but at least uneventful instead of full of speeding-ticket excitement) and now I am supposed to be getting ready for my fall class (hooray! I have some teaching! Yay!). I guess I have to be careful because I told some grad students "I have a job" and they then went around the department telling people I was on the tenure track, and there is nothing quite so embarrassing as having to go back around and correct people that, no, duh, I have some adjunct work, not a job job, and some people are raising eyebrows as if I had gone around purposely inflating my job status to seem fancy or pretend I had a real job instead of adjuncting, plus it is quite disheartening to have people in the hallways congratulate you excitedly and then watch them kinda deflate when you correct them that you have some teaching, not a professorship. Humbling. Oh well. I get a paycheck, bitches! (Oh yeah, watched a lot of Chappelle's Show this weekend too.)
In other news, after arriving back here I was supposed to leap back into the work and get job draft stuff together and be highly productive, as I had told my Advisor that I would show her revised and updated materials tomorrow (we have a meeting) but instead I ran around California and watched bad tv instead of working this weekend. Ooops. Unfortunately, I got sucked right back into my bloglines and emails and Go Fug Yourself routine (and this, too, natch) instead of work ---- that's the problem with working at school all the time and only blog-procrastinating at home: I now associate, Pavlov-style, being at the computer at this desk with goofing off. Mayhap I can force myself back to work a bit after posting this rambling screed.
And in other other news, my cats have fleas and were treated with flea stuff at the kennel this weekend. Since they are indoor cats and have never been outside, I am a bit at a loss as to how they got the fleas. The only explanation I can come up with is: that I have fleas and I somehow transferred them on to the cats when I came in at some point. I've never flea treated them before since I don't like getting chemicals all up in their faces unless it is absolutely necessary, so I was not thrilled to hear that they had fleas and flea treatment. Ah well. I'll need to look this stuff up and read all about it and what I need to do about it next. And it's about time to take them in to the vet for a checkup again anyway. So, ta da, more things for my to do list. Grumble. If I'm a doctor now, why doesn't that mean I get to carry a cane and be surly and obnoxious and use lots of drugs like House?
3 comments:
There are quite a few ways your kitties could have been infested with fleas - Just about any time they went outside, even to the vet, they could have been infested.
If you are in a new rental place, they could have been there when you moved in. If you live someplace warm, they could have come in from outside -- especially if it doesn't freeze where you are.
Of course, being an academic, you could have given them fleas yourself -- it is a common problem :).
Oh, fleas are magical. They can always get in! We always buy frontline from the vet and put it on the back of their necks. Works like a charm.
Once my late cat got fleas in so terrible a manner that they've reproduced all around the house, bursting with their kind of life along the cracks of the wooden floor. It was getting unbearable, even for my slack standards, specially since I felt them collectively jumping into the skin of my legs every time I showed them. Since I usually go around naked in the house, it was starting to be a problem. So, I applied some mean white dust, not at all natural, I suppose, the same one should apply to cat's and dog's infested skin, all over the floor of the entire house, having removed furniture and garbage. Me and my late cat went for a few days visit to girlfriend's house and when I've came back I could sense the smell of chemical warfare, all these fleas laying dead or badly injured in the battlefield. It was horrible, such wonderful God like creatures, massacred, but you see, it had to be done. I've then vacuum them, which, in my way of seeing it, accounts for some kind of religious protocol regarding afterlife.
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