I’ve had a bit of a cold for a few days. Today has been that day I get sometimes in the middle of it when I feel ok and it doesn’t feel that bad. It’s been a day of headaches and desperately needing fresh air yet needing to sleep while feeling ratty and exasperated with everyone and everything.
I decided earlier today that tomorrow I’d visit Oxford. I made my decision when I had a splitting headache from the aforementioned cold and really should have just turned over and gone back to sleep. I checked the price of train tickets on the National Rail website and know that they’re the price that they’re going to be tomorrow so no problems there. I checked the weather forecast and the location of two particular colleges that I want to visit and all seemed well. I then set about making supper for tomorrow night so that I’d have real food to come back to.
Of course having decided to do a day trip like that (from home to Oxford, take photos and get back home will take about 6 hours) I went out with my camera. I idled along with my 4x close up filter and planned my day tomorrow. I even bought chicken to roast for dinner tonight so that I could make some into sandwiches for tomorrow. When I got home I started to cook and uploaded my photos to edit them with the Oxford A to Z by my side. “You’re really cooking with gas today”, I told myself and then the cat happened.
The cat is eight years old. He’s a big adorable tom cat who came to me as a 16 week old kitten riddled with fleas and worms. Visits to the vet revealed that he had big health problems that treatment would help and time with lots of love would cure. Only the lots of love hasn’t cured the problems and over time they have got worse.
His problem is psychological in that he has an aversion to using the cat litter tray. I think it’s all about his physical problems in early life and, coupled with a cat who bullied him as she came to the end of her life, have left me in no doubt that he will never use a litter tray. We do well me and him, we don’t make a fuss when it comes to the various spills and it works for us.
Today the cat decided to pee on the quilt that he and the other two cats have been sleeping on for a few days. (I got it out for a duvet day and it never went back in the airing cupboard.) It wasn’t his fault. I was too busy being busy and telling myself it was because I was okay when I’m obviously manic that I wasn’t tuned in to his needs. I cuddled him, whispered reassurances and put him gently down. On reaching to get the quilt to look at how big the damp patch was I saw that another cat had folded themselves up in it away from the dampness. The cat who peed is now sat on the quilt again and they’re both getting nearer to the damp bit.
So the moral of the story seems to be that if I’m full of cold and I’m planning a long day out then it’s more than likely that I’m manic, if I’m manic I should at least try to do less than three or four things at the same time and, if I ever wet the bed, it’s not the end of the world.