I should be out in the garage, staining a door. I have house-guests, and no door on my upstairs bathroom. I should be finishing the laminate floor, on which I've been working for the last week. I should be tailoring a resume for a job in Lansing that actually interests me.
Instead, I'm sitting next to my dying cat and writing this.
She doesn't appear to be dying. She looks pretty good. Very good for a blind 16-year-old. But she has a bad heart, and failing kidneys, and she hasn't really eaten for 3-4 days. Right now, she wants to be petted. And I find that, as much I want and need to write this, I'm not selfish enough to ignore her.
