Confessions

I talk to cats. Not just my own two, but the neighbors’ cats and any cat I encounter wherever I go. As I walk by, I nod and say, “Hey, how ya doin’,” as though I were speaking to a person. I usually get a meow back in response.

My book buying has outpaced my book reading. But, just knowing that there are new treats on my bookshelves is comforting to me.

I’m bored silly at work.

I love banana sandwiches – they’re best on lightly toasted 7 grain bread.

I don’t miss most of my siblings, who live on the east coast. I was born into one of those Irish working class, drinking, brawling dynasties (I like that word) and the others just never evolved. I’d wonder if I was adopted but I’m the spitting image of my father and I have my mother’s cornflower blue eyes.

I dance in my living room.

I laugh at dead baby jokes. I know, I know … I feel just awful about it.