There's no doubt about it: I've had more time on my hands these days than the past few years combined. And I'm afraid part of my time has put me on the fast track to becoming my worst nightmare:
A Cat Lady
I'm not referring to a lady that just likes cats. Because I've always liked cats (sorry, Doug). I'm referring to the kind that has so many cats she doesn't even name them all. The kind that has a house that reeks of cats, is covered in hair, and that eventually has a litter box in every room. You know, one of THOSE ladies.
And how did this happen you may ask? Well there is a drain for rainwater just behind our apartment. Right when we moved in, we noticed it was a hot spot for these neighborhood cats. They spent much of their day playing on the grate or napping next to it (see below):
With me at home during the day and with our sliding glass door facing the drain, it was easy to notice when the cats came and went and what they were up to. I'd get really excited if I took our trash out and saw one of the cats there. Next thing I know I'm telling Doug stories about what the gray kitty did today or where I saw the black and white cat. I'm afraid I even roped Doug into it, because now he'll tell me, "Hey, the cats are back" or "Black kitty just walked on our back porch!"
I have tried to make contact with said cats, but they're super not interested. But their disinterest (or hatred?) hasn't deterred me from trying, and I'm sure it will only be a matter of time until we have our very own litter boxes for each room in the house.
Long live the cat lady within me... and may I find better ways to occupy myself soon.