My “Plans” are to be “Plan-less”

The word “Plans” have kind of an 80s ring to it.  Maybe that’s because I was a young adult in the 80s and having “plans,” especially “weekend plans,” was a must.

What are your plans?
Do you have any plans for the weekend?
Any fun plans coming up?

I’m not a plans kind of person.  Not in the way this is meant, anyway.  What are my plans?  You mean to get an education, raise a family?  No?  I don’t know about plans for “fun.”  I only have life plans and resolutions, which are almost always not fun-related, but require steady work.

Do I have any plans for the weekend?  Not yet, and I’m hoping to keep it that way.  Plans are “to dos.”  Getting up later than a weekday, lazing around with a pot of coffee and a cat, and puttering around have to happen first.  I may check for happenings in my area after that, but usually it’s too late to make them, which is just fine with me.

I’m not competitive with anyone about their plans.  I don’t want my plans to outshine your plans or win a prize.  Plans on my part does not mean I am more popular, or more needed than anyone else.  I don’t have a list of mountains to hike or river rapids to conquer.

Are people who run around amassing constant “plans” running FROM something?  Keeping busy?  Or are they just exuberate about life?th

Doesn’t matter, I guess.  My plan is to be blissfully plan-less.







Jasmine Eloise — Escape Artist

jazzyI’m $65 into cat harnesses.

Cat. Harnesses.

$65 is what I spend on food per week.

My cat is so much a part of my life, I want to take her places with me and give her some much-needed stimulation.  (We share four rooms, counting the bathroom and storage alcove).

Cat harnesses are not very good.

Or, my little Houdini is very good.

She can wiggle out of nearly anything and I end up chasing after her with grocery store cooked chicken saying, “Jazz-E…chicken.  Chicken.  Jazz-E, chicken.”

She immediately dropped in the dirt wearing the harness above and scrunched her shoulders up and out of that collar.

Disclosure:  This harness is made for a dog, but look at it.  You’d think it would container her, but no.

She has also sprung herself from a harness of straps and buckles made for cats, but not before she caught a mouse after 15 seconds outside.  Did she spot it from the window?!

But, I think I have found a good one.  It’s called a Kitty Holster.  I don’t have a picture of it, but it’s more like a vest and has Velcro fasteners.  My cat does not have the patience for buckles looking for their docks and my fussing with the snugness of the straps.  She says so by biting me.

One of my Facebook friends says I post way too much about my cat.  If everything I post is about my cat, then yes, I post way too much about my cat.  I was telling another friend about this and I concluded, “I guess I’ve turned into a cat lady.”  She said, “So?  What’s wrong with that?”

Yeah, other Facebook friend — what’s wrong with that?

If I want to buy cat harnesses I can use just once instead of food, I can.  Besides, you post way too much about baseball.




I’m back. I think. I’m back, right?

cat under dresserYes, a little, at least.

I still have the numb tongue, but it’s getting less and less, and wears off during the day.

I can get out the door in the morning.

I can navigate my new, weird boss.  That only took 4 months ; – )

Sunshine and flowers make me happy.  SOMETHING lifts my BCI.  Is that what I called it?  Check up with the Prozac pusher (and I mean that in the most respectful way) next Wednesday.

Whew…I don’t want to jump the gun, here, but…

I think I’m back.

My new commercial

“Hi, my name is Linley and I have BCI.  You know, brain chemical imbalance?

BCI used to keep me on the sidelines — in the shadows.  It was affecting my ability to take care of my kids and enjoy my hobbies.

Then my doctor recommended Prozac — Fluoxetine HCL.

Now I can join you in the sunshine and collect cat memorabilia.

Ask your doctor about Prozac Fluoxetine HCL.  Your kids and your kitty will be so glad you did.”

Right?  Too soon?

It’s AT LEAST as worthy of being treated as conditions like ED and whatever else.  There’s a bi-jillion of them.  I can left-brain it just as much as those.

“Depression” carries with it an “emotional” component — a “buck-up-ness” not required of people with diabetes, high blood pressure, psoriasis, joint pain, or even disfunctional private parts.  Can you die of lack of sexual penetration?  Painful vagina or soft penis?  Personally speaking, not yet.

Can you die of a BCI?  Yes.  People do every day.

Living large and dangerous-like without my daughter around


Is it wrong to be SUPER pumped that my daughter, who has been home from college since December 16, is going away today for the weekend?


My apartment is a very small, 4-room, 3rd floor, haven.  And that’s counting the bathroom.

She’s a slob.  Not as slobby as she used to be, but just sayin…my sponge was missing from the edge of the sink yesterday when I got home.  It’s not a good sign when your sponge is off presumably cleaning up some mess you have yet to come upon.

  • She does MANY things VERY well — gets excellent grades, jobs she goes after, has many friends, is very musically talented.  But, if left to feed herself, I think she would starve.  That leaves me with lots of money shelled out for food, or lots of cooking that I was enjoying not doing after 20 years of kids at home.

Chastisements from inside my head and from “them”:

  • I should be grateful she decided to stay with me during her break instead of her dad
  • I should be thankful that we have mostly had a fun, funny, enjoyable time together
  • I should remember that there won’t be too many more extended periods of time together before she’s an actual adult with an actual place of her own she prefers


I’m glad to see her get out, and I’ll be glad to see her return.

In the meantime, I’ll be tucked in bed wearing pjs as much as my little schedule will allow, with the cat, remote, iPad, stack of books, cake (one whole — diet starts Monday), and gin.

That’s right…living large and dangerous-like.




Screw Strife; Happy Life

Here are two pictures of things I did this weekend:


  1. I went to a David Bromberg concert.  He has many, varied, great songs, but I was introduced to him by hearing his song, “I’ll take you back.”  It scratched the getting-divorced-spot exquisitely.  He’ll take her back when, “water ain’t wet and congress pays off the national debt.”  You get it.  And,stash-pumkin
  2. I carved this lovely jack-o-lantern.  This is supposed to look like my bf’s cat.  If you knew how un-crafty I am, you would be very proud.  Despite the fact that the cat’s tail looks like a dragon, or some kind of reptile tail, and it’s a little lopsided, I like it.  It does look like by bf’s cat.

My weekends are happier.  I’m happier.

There’s always strife, but it’s easier to box up these days.