Cat keeps drinking out of the toilet, playing on the sides of the bowl, putting her paws in the water...and no, I don't have any of that blue stuff in the bowl. We left the lid up because two weeks ago, she was too small to jump on the tank and knock over Michelle's candles. It doesn't matter now. If I close the lid, the she'll just play in the tub after I shower.

Spending the weekend at work isn't bad. The more time I spend here, the less likely I am to get into mischief, run red lights or get tickets, or spend all my money. I like the work anyway. It's fun. My idea of fun isn't the norm anymore, though. It's just wearing jeans, suede One Stars and a Kangol...listening to music and reading. Going for walks. Feeding birds. What tangent am I on, anyway?

The old man has a knack for taking small differences between numbers and exaggerating them in his mind. The subtle differences seem larger. He taught math. This trait was passed onto the son, who uses this skill to earn a living. Noticing changes no one else would. Although as blind as a bat, his depth-perception is exceptional. But he still hits his head on the cabinet doors.

I dreamt of fish, fish that swam in the air, wiggling in my field of vision. Was I underwater? It didn't sound like it. Sounds swam around me, glints of color...I could feel the stillness of the air, the heaviness of my hands. Everything was too bright. I fell asleep watching TV Land. I awoke and Michelle was on the couch, a remote contol on her bedside, a half-full glass of water which the cat overturned at 6:32 in the morning. I love it when she leans and holds her head with one hand in the morning after ruffling my hair, just gazing into my eyes and pouting for attention, smiling, eyes gleaming. It's the best part of my day.