Apparently, it’s Snowzilla.

I was alone for 73 hours.  Well, alone, plus the animal kingdom (Bly, Tripp, Saki, Ahmi, and Henry).  I wrote throughout the hours of being alone and what you read below is my best job at pulling it all together.  I didn’t want to post it as I was writing it because who knows what creepers would have been looking in my windows knowing I was home alone for that long.  Here’s a picture of me doing a lot of shoveling!

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These are CT Newby’s stages of being snowed in:

Stage 1: Determination – Determination is peaked through preparation time.  Being snowed in alone (with animals) means there needs to be tons of snacks, tons of activities, and tons of entertainment.  I made lists of what lists I needed to make. And dammit, I was sure I was going to finish everything on the list.  It read as follows:
1. shovel
2. laundry
3. dishes
4. re-caulk bathtub
5. tape bedroom
6. paint bedroom
I’m sure there are other things on my list, but I’m unsure if I care to remember.

Stage 2: Excitement – Excitement hit when I realized I had the house to myself for hours on hours on hours.  I ran around in my bathrobe, slippers, and beanie cap on my bald head.  I listened to music loudly, fell asleep with the tv on, and shoveled with pure raw energy.  I started to do laundry and I danced my way through junk food and snow shoveling.

Stage 3: Sleep – Sleeping can occur in nap form or longer naps during that stage of the day one would think of as “nighttime.”  During a snowstorm, with the curtains closed, I sometimes like to ignore what time it actually is and pretend.  I tried to remove caulk from the bathtub at an odd hour in the night.

Stage 4: Denial – Denial has me thinking “I am so tired of this white stuff.  I am just sure it is not going to stop falling. It just keeps coming way too hard and too fast and ahhh hell, I think I’m stuck here in this house, alone, forever. I can’t even see across the street. Of course, my anxiety kicked into high gear and I knew this wasn’t going to be a fun snowcation.

Insert Nap Here

Stage 4: Existential Crisis – This is the fancy word for BIGGEST PITY PARTY ever.  I wished I was somewhere else in some other time that feels better than how I felt in that moment.  I hated everything…the snow, the fact that I had shoveled and shoveled and still couldn’t get out.  This occurred around the 39th hour of being alone.  I made it almost a full workweek amount of time alone and I was good.  Then I felt like I was on the brink of some severe anxiety, so I decided to go to sleep listening to some calming music.

Insert Nap Here

Stage 5: Persevering – I really can’t stand snow, I can’t stand being stuck in the house, I want a flamethrower or ocean water and melt all this crap and make it go the hell away so I can leave.

Stage 6: Life Exists – I saw people. I replenished my snacks.  I found out that we didn’t have school tomorrow.  I came home, got in my indoor hammock and began to write.  The animals are calm (unfortunately, because let me tell you I almost benadryl’d these pups a couple of times).  FINALLY.

 

 

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Meet Henry

I have decided that you readers out yonder (as we say in Kentucky – not really…okay, maybe) should know a little more about The Animal Kingdom.  Sometimes, I feel like The Animal Kingdom could be its only little miniseries of a blog or blog or whatever….these animals in my household (the pets, not L & T, although they can sometimes be animals especially when not fed on an interval basis – hehe) are ridiculous.  Absolutely ridiculous.

So, first in line will be our newest addition to the Taylor – Newby – Green household (my god, we are just too20151128_120254 much aren’t we?), Sir Henry David Catreau (see the resemblance? I see it, shut up!) henry david thoreau
His name prior to me saving him from the depths of pet store hell, was Hunter.  Because he liked to hunt things. No shit.  He’s a cat –
they’re predators.  He’s one of a kind though.  He h
as the fast cycling of an unmedicated person with Rapid-Cycling bipolar disorder. Henry will be sweet one moment and absolutely crack addict wired the next moment.  He’ll be curled up on my chest, asleep, and purring only seconds later across the room tackling our shitzu with the force of a linebacker. I’ve seen him torture our sweet Saki Samuel into hiding under a Christmas tree hoping he won’t be noticed. **Bad hiding spot, Saki, Sir Henry David Catreau thinks of the tree as his mini-kingdom.** 

 

Henry often climbs on parts of the house that he shouldn’t be able to climb on. Like screen doors, Christmas trees, bay windows, rod-iron railings, the bigger dogs, my legs, my back.  It’s painful, especially when its a body part.  Just this morning, I was sitting on the couch and Henry jumped up from where he was behind me sleeping, and proceeded to jump on my back in an attempt to climb up my t-shirt.  His nails were out so not only did he climb the t-shirt, he also climbed my back.

His favorite thing to climb, is the screen door.  He’s a lunatic with the backdoor.  I don’t even think he wants to go outside as much as he just 20151227_142011.jpgwants to climb to the very top in hopes that we have placed a bell he can ring to notify the cat-gladiator world that he has DEFEATED THE GAUNTLET!  See below, for his latest victory run on the GAUNTLET!

And of course after all that hoopla and carrying on, he lays down next to his frenemy, Saki Samuel, to take a little snooze before hunting again.

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