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Attack Of The House Cat

Not My Cat
Not My Cat – Not the Attacker-  Just a pretty kitty

I look like a shredded piece of meat. At least my arm does. I hate getting shredded by my house cat. I am in misery. How many times do I let my cat tear the stuffing out of me? I love my pets but I think I’m getting to the point of no return. I do know I will never own a cat again. I’ve had some beautiful, loving, gentle cats before, but the ones I have now are (filled with the devil) at least it would appear so. I only want to have my dog. She is so loving. Not more pets of any kind for me anymore. This is it. I’m finite.

We have decided to repaint the hallway another color. So it’s going to be another weekend before we can move on to another project. I hate that the house is going so slow. I wish now that I would have taken out a personal loan. maybe I would be in it by now.

I wonder how many people get hit with the wintertime blues and depression? I seem to get the blues often. I need the sunshine. It lifts my spirits. I don’t like drab, dreary, and depressing days. Winter is the least favorite of seasons for me.

I’m trying to think of a book to write again. I don’t know what to write about. It’s funny, but I’m stumped and I haven’t even started yet. Who knows maybe I’ll start drawing again. I do that pretty well. Get back to doing something I love and maybe even try selling a few of them. That might work out good.
I wonder if I should start vlogging. Put up a youtube channel and see how that goes? I think I’ll have to wait till I’m in the new house for that thought. This house is too old and starting to fall in around me. I don’t think anyone would want to see that. Full of ideas but not sure if I’ll do any of them. At least not for a while. I think I just need something to do, too occupy my time. I keep pretty busy but still, have time that I could utilize.

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I want to make a to-do-list of blog posts I would like to publish. Have some ideas so that I won’t be stumped about what to write about next. I need some fresh ideas. My brain is like in a fog lately and I’m at a loss for what to do next. I think I need a muse. A mentor. A guide.

So long, for now, Ysabell. I will write again soon.

My life has been the poem I would have writ
But I could not both live and utter it.

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