I am not a morning person. Not even a little bit. Sunshine says that I sound like a catfish out of water in the morning when I snap at him as I’m trying to find the half and half for my coffee.
Since we have become crazy cat people with backyard chickens, my mornings have gotten busy.
Every morning, I have to put out cat food. (We put it up at night to keep the raccoons and other creatures of the night from eating it.) Here lately, I have to put the kittens out in their box so that If they escape it they don’t get hidden behind a freezer or something. (Yes, that happened about a week ago. I’m sick and tired of moving appliances to find cats.) I don’t even get to have a cup of coffee before I deal with the cats, because the moment they hear somebody stirring inside the magic bus, they start trying to come in through the doggie door. So I go outside and start tripping over cats to make it to the laundry room; once I get to the laundry room I have to fight the cats to keep them out of the laundry room.
side note: the cats all live outside. There are entirely too many of them for me to be scooping and changing litterboxes after them. Sunshine refused to help with that little task, so I quit doing it. I have been maintaining a litterbox for the mama cat while her kittens are being kept in the laundry room at night, but once they’re weaned, they join the rest of the pride of cats that roams the yard.
After I’ve dealt with the cats, I have to go open the chicken house so that the chickens can go eat bugs out of the yard. That generally means walking through the wet grass before I’ve had my coffee, which gives me the grumpy-uglies.
This morning, as I was tripping over cats and catching the grumpy-uglies letting the chickens out, I started wondering “Who am I and how did I become this person who does all this stuff in the mornings before coffee?”
If I ever figure out the answer to that one, I’ll let you know. In the meantime, I’m going to go have more coffee.