I Try - I Really Try

I was in the middle of computer hell. See, the thing is, hackers have no problem doing their hacking. It's the rest of us who can't access anything! I wanted to pay a bill, but no, my whozits and whatzits didn't add up even though I meticulously (well, it's all on a tiny scrap of paper which I've scribbled on since the last century) entered the info. Nothing.  Nada. It did not recognize me. Even the security questions didn't help. C'mon - I know exactly where and when I was first kissed. I remember it well...parking after a high school dance...

Where was I? Oh, yea - so there I was, on the phone with someone named "Jessica" - yea, right - in the middle of the Pacific? - or maybe India - who knows. I was trying not to be "that American" - you know the one who complains about having to deal with someone way smarter, who can speak several languages, while here I am with my mono-lingual self trying valiantly to understand her.

I mean, she can speak English fine, just not with any accent I can understand. And she's trying to get me to "sync up (my) computer with internet time." Are you fracking kidding me? It's a computer and I can type and I have my stuff written down - what more do you want from me?? ALL I WANT TO DO IS PAY MY BILL!!!!

That's when several things happened at once - my phone started to die and I heard a massive crash coming from somewhere in the house. I was left with no choice but to hang up on "Jessica" (who probably has a beautiful, but decidedly un-American name like Prisha or Sanjib but has to go by Jessica, since we Americans can't handle anything outside of our comfort zone) rather rudely. I mean, it sounded like the house was caving in and sinkholes are a real problem here.

I ran around the house trying to take inventory. Jack - asleep on the couch - check. Rooney - same - check. Half of the cats on the dining room table sound asleep - check. Nothing on the floor.

Then I got to the laundry room. It looked like a giant, cosmic hand had picked it up, flipped it upside down then put it back down - leaving the contents of the room exactly where they had landed. And smack dab in the middle of the mess were...Dash, Boo! and Finn.

I was gob smacked. Boo! and I linked eyeballs - hers wide with surprise; mine wide with disbelief. Dash was somewhere in the middle of the mess and Finn just bolted. I didn't have my dying phone with me to take a picture, so let me describe the scene:

Imagine a drone strike. The vacuum cleaner was on its back, with all of its attachments and filter basket strewn about like it had taken a direct hit. The catch-all Lingonberry (whatever) basket, which has been catching-all for years from its place on the top of the dryer, was now a dropped-all. Splattered everywhere were coins, screws, rubber bands, scissors! - various odds and ends, etc.

The bin, in which I deposit nasty kitchen rags, until I can nuke them with bleach, was also on the floor, as were the nasty kitchen rags. The only thing intact on top of the washer was the cricket bin. That figures, since there are only three left in a recently sanitized box and I would gladly sacrifice those stupid bugs to a drone strike. Needless to say, it was an awful mess.

This is how I felt when I discovered the carnage.

Dash and The Boo! ran. Dash knew exactly what to do - and headed for the sanctity of his bedroom/timeout space. Finn was already in there. (He has formed an unholy alliance, for some reason, with those two.) With a little help from the other cats, who are always more than happy to rat out a sibling by "pointing" with their gaze, I located the ringleader  - The Boo! She was attempting to hide, but it's only effective when your whole body is hidden not just your head! I scooped her up and deposited her in the room with her two brothers.

I then turned my attention to the mess in the laundry room. As I'm down on my poor knees picking up coins and crap, I completely forgot about my main problem, which is computer access. I'm sure the folks in payment centers across the globe have heard all the excuses we humans can conjure up. Wonder if anybody's ever used their cats as an excuse for a late payment? I'm about to find out...

Oh, and the kitties didn't stay long in timeout. Why? Because The Boo! has figured out how to open the door. Yes, it's true. I've been puzzled lately when I noticed the bedroom door open and I didn't remember opening it. I chalked it up to diminished capacity (mine.) Well, I guess she figured out if she hangs on the door handle, voila! - the door opens!

As I type, she is focused on the lizard on the outside of the window while standing on top of the hamster cage, while Emily Elizabeth is looking up thinking WTH...