That about sums it up

I worked from home because the city inspector was supposed to inspect my smoke alarms today, but he or she didn't show up. While I'm enjoying the opportunity to work from home, I'd prefer to have more input as to when a good day might be, and have the person show up.

The .25 dose of the Risperdal isn't going to work. While I'm in no pain, I've had one voice and some disorganized thinking. So much for that. On the other hand, despite the higher dose, I managed to get confused yesterday about which building I sat in (thought it was H instead of F), so who knows how much the drug can do anyway.

Anyway, I'll call the doctor tomorrow. He either is about to go on vacation or is on vacation, so we'll see. I think I'll take the higher dose of the med on days when I need to be sharper (that is, be around people), and deal with the pain. I'll take the lower dose on days when I can sit quietly in my office and work on less difficult stuff.

Near miss

Harlee kept on meowing last night. Not a tentative meow, either; she clearly was unhappy about something and wanted it to change right away. As I'd drop off to sleep, I'd hear "MEOW!". I'd say, "What's wrong, Harlee?" Silence. Then I'd drop off again. "MEOW!" Etc. I finally gave up and got up about a half-hour early. I was worried that she had somehow caught her collar on something under the bed, so I decided that I needed to take apart the bed.

So I did. I rolled the blankets and sheets together to make them easier to put back on later. I lifted the mattress and then the box spring.

Harlee wasn't there. Harlee was nowhere to be found.

I decided that she somehow must have gotten herself locked in the closet, even though it had sounded like she had been meowing right next to me. I looked in the closet, and didn't see her, but there's so much junk in there that I wasn't surprised. I decided to leave the door open so that she could get out and to take the closet apart when I got home.

In the meanwhile, I removed the dust mite cover for the box spring. Clever Harlee had pulled at it until it hung down, thus blocking her from view.

And then I left for work. I decided to eat breakfast out first to wake myself up.

Later in the day, during lunch, I thought more about where she might be. When Random visited, he always went nuts and started hissing behind one of my bedside tables. I thought that she might have peed back in that corner, so on Sunday, I cleaned the area with pet cleaner and then moved the bedside table back against the wall. Now I thought that if she somehow got underneath the table (although it seemed too small an area to be possible), that would explain Random's reaction, and she would be trapped right now.

I had to go home and find out.

So I did. When I saw her foot, I almost screamed. I tipped the table forward, apologizing to her all the while, and she finally ran out of there.

She had been there for about two-and-a-half days.

She looked the worse for wear, but she was okay. I got her extra water and fresh food. Eventually I left.

She ate this evening (and, I presume, drank). She doesn't like going under the bed much anymore, which is rather nice. She still is hiding from me, but doesn't seem quite so panic-stricken. Maybe something good will come from this.

But I'm still shaken up.