Sunday, October 9, 2011

Be Gone Foul Specks (and cat urine)

Oh how I wax and I wane over the internal garage sale or donate debate. I had planned on doing a garage sale yesterday. Which is crazy because we are very busy right now. But, I could have fit it in between soccer games, seeing old friends, and cleaning for visitors. I could have.

Do you know what I did instead? I took my daughter to garage sales. I was prudent(ish) in my shopping. I let her buy a few things with her money with the caveat that she would get rid of stuff when we got home. (She did) I bought a few items of clothing her that she needed. (Brand new, tags still on Arizona jeans for 50 cents apiece!) I bought a Spam cookbook for a quarter that's going to be a Christmas gag (and barf) gift for Christmas. I bought a brand new Yankee candle for $2 (and threw out my Yankee store coupons when I got home). Do you know what? I realized by paying so little for that stuff that having a garage sales is a waste of my time. People want your stuff for nothing. It's much easier to donate and a take the tax deduction.

Today I am filling totes for consignment and filling bags for donation (including the toys Big Girl gave up). I want it all gone. And I want to keep getting rid of stuff until there is nothing left. I want moving from this house to be an actual possibility and not a complete dream because we have so much stuff to deal with.

On a completely different and way more frustrating note- my cat keeps peeing. And not in her litter box. I have taken to scooping the litter daily. I signed an agreement with the rescue group that I would return her if I didn't want her anymore and that I also would never make her an outside cat. It's just not conscionable for me to give her back knowing that this behavior will continue for another person. I'm almost positive that this is the reason she was given away in the first place. I don't really want an outside cat anyway. And other than the urine capers, I adore this cat. What am I to do????
I'm so not getting another cat. My beloved Fusty is 15 this year. He will leave a giant hole when he's gone. But, I cannot let myself fill it with another orange fluff ball. I think. My history has proven me wrong.

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