The following illustrates how I spend my day ... or, more accurately, how my day is spent:
***
6:42am - Wake up and throw on my "Virgin" teeshirt (which I purchased as an item of irony but these days, I wonder ... can "it" grow back??), clean out any remains of dinner that Hobbes and Minnie ignored from the previous evening, slop in some new food for breakfast that they can ignore, change out their water dishes, and walk back into the bedroom to try to convince Hobbes that the breakfast meal is, indeed, worthy of his attention. I'm smart enough to only set his food down - because Minnie is still outside from the previous evening.
***
6:51am - I visit the washroom, splash some water on my face, brush my teeth and hair, and head to the front door to get my paper and let Minnie in, if she is waiting for me (which she is). I set her food down and walk to the back room (the "music" room) to open the blinds. Minnie is standing at my feet, so I walk her back into the kitchen to remind her that breakfast has been served. She does not care about the food - apparently my sole reason for being here today was to serve as her door-person.
***
7:02am - Toss the paper on the bed and head back to the music room, to open the blinds. Minnie is still walking between my feet so I open the glass door and she goes bounding out. My attempts to cajole her into eating the breakfast I've provided have failed and she immediately curls up for a nap on the deck chairs. She will be completely, 100% UNinterested in waking up, even if food is involved for the next 14 minutes, unless of course she changes her mind. She will let me know when she is ready to dine and, until then, I should leave her be. (I note that, for a formerly "wild" cat, she sure wasted no time in getting me trained.)
***
7:05am - Walk back into the kitchen and pour myself a glass of orange juice to take with my morning pills. It will be at this point that I realize that I have already brushed my teeth and "minty orange juice" is not a great flavor to start ones day with and that I have left my morning pills in the bedroom. I pick up Minnie's food from her serving area in the kitchen, so that Hobbes doesn't "taste" it for her - and I bring the orange juice with me back to the bedroom under the pretense of taking my pills while reading the paper. This, of course, will not actually happen - but it's a plan at least.
***
7:07am - Snuggle back into bed to start on the paper. Glance at the clock as I thumb through the first section and realize ... yep, those are my pills right by the clock - across the room - and my orange juice is sitting on the table right by my bed, but it's too high up to reach unless I un-snuggle and dammit all if the covers don't just lure me to ignore the problem for a bit.
***
7:36am - It's been more than 30 minutes since I brushed my teeth so the taste of orange juice should be more orange and less minty by now. Walk across the room to get my pills and wonder if Minnie is ready to come in. A glance outside the music room doors onto the deck show me that I waited too long on my offer of breakfast, as the area is now strewn with feathers of what appear to have belonged to a Steller's Jay. All the good parts of the bird are gone, so I'll have feet, tail feathers, and a seed-gullet to clean up later. Oh, and some hard, almost green small organ that I still think is a kidney, but I'm not all that curious to look it up. Minnie is, of course, waiting by the door to come in, so I open it for her (as is my assigned task) and she heads immediately to the kitchen to see what has been served. I follow her into the kitchen, set her food down, pour some water into a glass, and walk back to the bedroom, only to see that I still have my orange juice, which is what I was gonna take my pills with - I remember that part. I pour the water into a hanging ivy in my room, which immediately causes a spill onto Hobbes who was sleeping quietly on his kitty scratching post (which sadly happens to be placed underneath said plant). He is not amused and will spend the next 18 minutes licking every hair back into place and glancing at me as if to be muttering "damn dirty apes" under his breath.
***
7:37am - I hear the pitiful cries of Minnie at the front door, begging to immediately be let outside for some emergency that she simply must attend to. I glance over to Hobbes, who is too busy on his apperance to care about the issues around him, and trudge to the front door to let Minnie out. She bounds out urgently and stops two steps outside of my door. She sits, and begins to clean. It is simply a kitty mystery as to why this cleaning could not occur inside, but it's not my lot in life to ask such questions. I walk to the kitchen to again pick up her food, and head back to bed.
***
8:02am - Oh, crap - my pills. Right - THAT's what I haven't done. I glance to my clock, where they aren't. They're also aren't by the orange juice in my bedroom. A 10-minute search will have them turn up on my reading table in the music room, where I must have set them down in my viewing of Minnie's breakfast al fresco. I take my pills in my left hand, hold them out so that I can actually SEE them - and walk directly into the bedroom to my orange juice, which I take into my right hand. It's taken me 40 minutes, but I have at last taken my morning pills. I've accomplished something. I will reward myself by climbing *back* into bed to read the Entertainment section of the paper.
***
8:02:08am - As I unfold the Entertainment section of the paper, the cries of Minnie directly underneath my bedroom window tell me she's ready to come inside. I walk to the music room, let her in, place her food down and as I'm returning to the bedroom, I pass Hobbes, who is ready to eat his breakfast now. What will really happen, of course, is that he'll look at his breakfast, which has been down for his review for an hour, and he'll decide it is too old to eat. Even 'tho Minnie's food has also been uncanned for an hour, it is - in his TINY little kitty mind - fresher and, as he is the top cat here, he'll push her out of the way and eat her food. She won't care because, after all, she still has a belly full of fresh birdie. She goes off to her latest favorite place to snooze.
***
8:28am - It's time to get moving. I've read the paper, even the international sections that I don't totally understand but do my best to keep up on, so yes, it's time to get moving. I turn on the radio as I head to my purse to get my blackberry. Though I don't have to work today, I will get no fewer than 72 emails on an average day, and I like to know what will be waiting for me when I do have to be at work. While my blackberry syncs up to divulge the waiting emails, I sit on the edge of my bed, barely able to hear the morning DJs over Hobbes satisfied snoring. He is back asleep on his cat scratching post, with a full belly of Minnie's breakfast. I notice my blackberry light is flashing red, indicating the individuals in the world who wish to talk with me. By the time I've completed browsing through these emails, I will notice that I'm completely back under the bed covers - with no recollection as to having climbed back under them.
***
8:58am - Committed to being "up and about" before 9am, I throw off the covers and stand upright, which causes Hobbes to glance up at me. I turn off the radio and get dressed, walk to the bathroom to brush my hair and find myself brushing my teeth ... again. "Aw well" I mutter, as Hobbes strolls by the doorway. I imagine that my movements around the home are just as confusing to him as his are to me. I walk back into the bedroom to retrieve my blackberry and, for just a moment, I wonder if I have, in fact, taken my morning pills. Happily I remember doing so - with water or orange juice or something - so I walk to the kitchen and see that Minnie's food is down. This is good, because it means that she is inside. I know that I've let her in a few times already this morning, so the only way I can remember if she is in or out is by her food bowl. I grab my purse and head out the door because, while I have no SCHEDULED events, there is but one automatic must do. I drive to Starbucks.
***
9:22am - As I walk back through the door with my coffee, I wait for Minnie to come running up behind me to be let inside, except this does not happen. As I close the front door behind me, a quick glance into the kitchen shows me that she's already inside, because her food is down. I enjoy my coffee for a bit, log onto the 'fun' non-work related sites of my laptop and turn on some music to enjoy.
***
10:17am - Hobbes emerges from his mid-morning nap for a quick snack (from Minnie's bowl, of course), and a bit of attention from me. After I've received enough kitty love, he strolls back into the bedroom, to begin his late-morning nap.
***
10:28am - I take a last sip of my mocha and realize that Minnie has still not surfaced. This isn't unusual, but I do take a moment to glance in on Hobbes, with the idea that perhaps she is napping with him. As he looks at me with an annoyed expression,
I see she is not there. I decide it's not a problem (yet), and head back to my laptop.***
10:42am - I am ready for a hot chocolate refill and, while I wait for the milk to heat, I walk to the music room to glance at Minnie's usual resting spot. She is not there.
This is a little strange, as this has been her latest favorite place to nap. I walk back into the kitchen and, with my full mug of hot chocolate, I walk into the front room to look behind the small bi-level drawers near the front door 
- but there too - no Minnie***
10:59am - While wondering if my only conversations today will be with my Starbucks Barrista and my cats, I look over at the drapes in the front room, hoping to see a curled up Minnie Cat making the pleats fall strangely - but they are straight and true. I have officially lost my cat - somewhere inside my home. This is different then misplacing some pills, and I decide to take a moment inside to search. It is, afterall, very possible that she's really outside and I perhaps just forgot to pick up her food. (It's happened before.) In fact, I decide to take a look at her dining area, in case she's decided to top off her breakfast with a mid-morning snack.
No dice ... or, rather, no cat.***
11:03am - At the risk of again waking Hobbes, I stroll quietly into the bedroom and open my closet door. There is, on the floor of my closet, a box from an Amazon order that was, for a time, a favorite kitty sleeping spot. This led to many hours of wondering where the cat was, only to hear sad little mewing from deep inside the closet. I would feel awful, and she'd work it up to be far worse than it was. I look inside the box,
which is cat-less. Hobbes moans deeply while I slink way, in full cat-search mode.***
11:09am - With the second hot chocolate warming up, I wonder if I'm suffering from "cat blindness". I have long suspected that Minnie and, to some extent Hobbes, have a secret kitty-dimension that allows them to navigate unseen throughout these rooms. I rub my eyes and glance at pillow on top of the bi-level drawers near the front door.
This pillow was placed specifically for cat napping (in order to discourage the use of the footstool for that purpose), and clearly it is still being ignored. There is a void of cats here, too.***
2:02pm - I've spent the past 2 hours crawling under my bed, looking behind every door, moving furniture, unpacking boxes that were destined for the garage (but just haven't made it there yet). I have checked the bathtub, the sinks, the oven and dishwasher (clearly desperation had set in). Except for ordering coffee today, the only things I've said out loud is "no matter" under my breath and "here kitty kitty kitty" throughout my home. Wherever she is, I can now rattle off a long list of places where Minnie isn't. I pour myself yet another mug of hot chocolate and sit at my desk, wondering if I'd missed something - somePLACE - obvious.
***
5:18pm - Having spent the better half of a day imagining all kinds of awful things (including one where the relatives of the Steller's Jay return to the back deck for revenge) I am racked with guilt when my temporary apartment-mate walks through the door. I will now have to admit what has happened to another human who also cares deeply for Minnie. As I am screwing up my courage, I watch as Jesse sets down his bags and walks over to the cat toy box
to pet Minnie. "So", he asks me while scratching her head, "what'd ya' do with yourself today?"
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