What We Have Here...

"What we have here is a failure to communicate."  (Strother Martin's famous line from Cool Hand Luke, 1967)

The mortgage company is driving me to distraction with misinformation.  On one of the last calls made on Monday (the first call had been disastrous), I was told that "Stanley" would call me "tomorrow" (yesterday).  Consequently, I did not go the store.  This is important stuff and I did not want to miss his call.  I took refuge in the usual way; I napped long and hard, believing Shakespeare's line, "Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care" (Macbeth, 1606).  I dunno, I awoke still feeling pretty "ravell'd," and Stanley hadn't called.  Thomas had sent me a packet to fill out via computer, but I hadn't opened it, waiting to hear from Stanley.  (Try to keep up here, the list of players is long and keeps changing.)  I called the company again and spoke to Steven, who told me that Stanley would not call until I'd sent the packet back to Thomas.  Aarrgh!

By then it was too late to go to the store.  The litter box is getting pretty littered so, regardless, I will go today.  Michael came to the rescue again.  Taking him out for the last walk of the day, I was going over all that I hadn't gotten done and suddenly it came to me that it was Tuesday and I still hadn't taken the trash down to the road.  If I'd stayed in the house, it would not have occurred to me.  It had been another day full of aarrghs.  Putting Michael and the trash bag in the truck, we took off, by then needing headlights to see in the dark.

Michael again won the race to the porch.  Yay, Michael!