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March 27, 1997
The mockingbird is perched right outside my window on top of the electric pole. He is singing up a storm. Wilbur is going nuts trying to get at him. If you listen closely you can also hear kids playing laser tag in the background.
I had to force myself to go to the WA meeting tonight. I have been acting so workaholic at the cat shelter the past few weeks it's starting to feel like a real job. I can't be workaholic if I'm not in a paying job, right? Wrong. I feel frazzled by cleaning litter boxes, mailing packages to friends, shopping for towels, doing laundry...
More on this another time.