My cat's on standard time

The cats always begin to fuss around the same time of morning, reminding all us selfish bastards that there are indeed other organisms in the world that need to be fed, let out and given attention. I have always found it strange that they sleep for so long during the day, yet at the exact moment when I could use another hour, they have to come and wake me up.

This morning, though, they were an hour late. They haven't switched their clocks yet for daylight savings time.

A week or so ago, a mail slot suddenly appeared in my apartment door, and now I have been informed that I am the proud recipient of a brand new postal code. Now Canada Post will finally deliver mail. I am now in the process of writing a letter to myself to test it out.

The problem being that I don't know what to write. Mostly I'm just sitting here.

My mother poked me and started singing that song where they say "I'm gonna mail myself to you..." but I can't remember the words.

I sent some of my pictures off to be printed really big and I'll put them up at my apartment. They are sorely needed because the walls are so bare. I notice these things now.

When I moved with my parents about a year and a half ago, I suddenly realized just how much art we actually owned. I'm not talking about Picassos or Monets or anything exciting like that, but little things.

The kitchen had 22 handmade raku fish on the walls, different artists, different glazes. Every window in the house was filled with hand blown glass balls. We had paintings and prints, photos, ceramics, art glass, antiques and knicknacks that I never really noticed that we had.

Suddenly I realize that none of that stuff was really mine. My apartment is so bare looking. I'm looking through all the pictures on my computer to pick a couple to print and put up on my walls right now. It's kind of fun.