Anne and Frankie

I recently acquired two new roommates. The first one was Anne who replaced Cecily. I had about 2 weeks alone between roommates, and never really thought about all of the changes that would happen when I got a new roommate. Cec was pretty much never around, didn't keep any food in our apartment, and didn't really even have anything (furniture, "stuff", etc) in the place either. I always said living with her was like living alone except that someone else paid half the rent. Living with Anne has been quite the opposite of living with C. Not only did she bring tons of furniture and mountains of boxes, she actually eats here and even works from home occasionally. She is also just as addicted to her laptop as I am. It is not unusual for both of us to sit at the kitchen table and work in silence on our respective computers at the same time. Like I said, she's a great girl. I just wasn't mentally prepared to share my space. So I've needed some adjusting time on things. And it hasn't helped that I have been sick nonstop since she moved in.

So a few days after Anne moved in she mentioned something about wanting a cat. I agreed a cat would be fun. The very next day Frankie arrived in our lives. He's a very playful white and black cat with a warped sense of humor. I like cats with a warped sense of humor. For starters, if you leave a glass, cup, jar of jam, etc on the kitchen counter, he can sense this from wherever he is hiding at the moment. He will come running from his dark corner, jump on the counter, and bat it off (on purpose). This is one of this greatest pasttimes. He's been here less than 2 weeks, and I am already down 3 glasses. He doesn't like cat food, but seems to have a hankering for quesadillas, based on how many times I have caught him licking my dinner. He also has one other trait I have never seen in a cat before. If you are eating something he thinks he wants, he will get up on his back legs and "beg" like a dog. Its a riot to watch. He's also a lot like a newborn baby with its days and nights confused. He sleeps all day (only coming out to knock cups off of counters), and then wakes up when we get home from work. And then he expects to play with you all night long. And by play, I mean play fetch, another thing I have never seen a cat do before. But its fun, and I enjoy having him around. And since I take copious amounts of nyquil each night, I am sleeping through his demands pretty well.

It is also that time of the year again where I break out the knitting. (Directly related to the new TV season premiering.) Tonight I re-learned that you can't knit when there is a cat in the room. Frankie REALLY likes to attack the yarn (and me) when I knit. However, he can sit and watch me type on the computer for hours before attacking my hands. I wonder if for him watching me type, is sort of like when a human plays "whack a mole?"

In other random news, my head cold actually seemed to get better over the weekend. I had some minor coughing, but nothing big. I even went to bed Sunday convinced I would be just fine in the morning. But no such luck. Somehow I woke up with laryngitis, and my cough is considerably worsened. Once the genie grants my third and final wish of giving me three more hours in the day, I will pay another visit to the doctor to figure this out. No rest for the wicked, right?


Frankie attacking Anne's bed.