Sometimes it's the little things...

My life is a split personality. I have a cat with *cancer*.
I work mostly full-time. I go to school (and take classes).
And... I just aquired a new friend of the female persuasion... still too soon to tell, but I have *hopes*.

Taffy is still soldiering on, his cancer making life more difficult; but every time I think about whether or not it's time... he cuddles, purrs... and asks for more food and treats. As long as he's still actively pursuing this, I guess he feels ok enough. I wish there was more.

Get up, pill the cat. Grab coffee, computer, notebooks and food... and out the door to work. Bug out of work when the plant closes; come home to feed the cats, then (certain days)... off to school. Who'd thought I'd be in classes at 51? It was easier when I didn't have to compete.

Home again, chores, bills... and the occasional SF show or a movie (if the weekend).

And they say the treadmill is only in the gym.

This weekend I'm going hiking.