Chores

You can’t teach an old cat new tricks, or really any trick
Cats are pretty much worthless little creatures. They do nothing but order you around. Down here in Oklahoma City my mother has an enclosed backyard so she thought it would be nice if the cats could go outside and play, free of predators and cars. We decided that we would put a cat door inside the storm door so we could keep in the cool air but still allow them hypothetical freedom. The door cat door went in two weeks ago and the cats absolutely refused to use it. In fact they suddenly developed a fear of the outdoors because it involves the cat door. One cat got so angry about the door that she peed on a rug…great animals huh? To solve this issue my mother and I decided we needed to “teach” the cats how to use the door. I am under the impression that cats do not need to be taught anything and simply delight in you making a fool of yourself attempting to show them how to do something. If they really wanted to do it they would. Anyway we started just by showing them the door mechanism. This process involved me sitting next to the door and pushing on it so they could see it opened and closed. Pretty simple, not impressive, they didn’t care. My mother then decided we should show the cats that things can go in and out of the door…so I crawled through the door. That freaked them out and made me feel mildly ridiculous (although I have been known to climb through animal doors when I forget my key, be forewarned). Lastly we just grabbed the cats and started shoving them through. My mom sat on one side and I sat on the other and we just handed them off to each other. The cats got no joy out of this and my forearms look like I’ve started cutting. Last week I got home from work and opened the door to let the cat out, as has become the tradition since the very expensive cat door was a useless investment. Thirty minutes later I got up to let her back in only to discover her in the living room lying on the fireplace. She used the door! I did a dance and everything. However the cat refuses to show me she knows how to use the door, she wants me to think she won’t use it so that I will continue to let her out (she hates the door hitting her nose). Cats are smart; humans are dumb; I’m returning to St. Louis with one less cat. Who’s the winner now?

The Motion Sensor
My mother went on a short weekend trip to Ohio and left me a list of things to do while she was gone. Since I am staying here free of charge I can at least do some manual labor to earn my keep. The first thing on the list was “fix motion sensor light”. My mother’s house here in Oklahoma was previously owned by some super paranoid individuals. There are can spot lights that run across the front of the house and two different sets of motion detectors in the back. If there is even the smallest breeze rustling the tiniest branch our backyard lights up as if Cher just walked on stage. One of the sensors was “out” and my mother figured as long as it’s there we ought to have it working. I went to Home Depot and bought the very strange light-bulbs for the light and set out to replace them. One would consider screwing in a light-bulb one of the simplest of home improvement tasks no? I am well trained in the art of replacing a bulb so I grabbed the ladder and set it up under the sensor. There is no way to turn “off” a motion light or so I’ve come to believe. I slipped in the first bulb and fell off the ladder. No, I’m not that clumsy. Motion sensor lights are bright and incredibly hot; I had popped in the new bulb with my face 2 inches from the light and basically blinded myself when it flipped on. I spent the next 20 minutes changing the other two bulbs with sunglasses and oven mitts (please no “female” jokes). It’s done…don’t make fun if I got it done.

Only in Oklahoma…and maybe Arkansas
Last week the health institution I work at went out to lunch to celebrate the completion of a grant. Where do people who work in public health go for lunch? Panera? Subway? Whole Foods? No, try Roosters. Roosters is down in Bricktown, a thriving section of downtown Oklahoma City where the minor league ball field is and various other nightclubs and bars. Roosters, as I come to understand, sells fried chicken…only fried chicken. Oh wait, I lied, it sells fried pickles and fried okra too. Now I’m not a health freak, far from it, but I think if I’m wearing my department ID (intern ID for the department prom…I’m really glad nobody seems to care how outdated it is) I should set a good example. How can we expect others to be willing to live healthy lifestyles if the most recognizable health institution in the area goes out to eat at the local fried chicken joint? I don’t judge, I’m terrible too but we need to learn. I guess I just need to try and get my “coworkers” to walk the talk. If an individual is trying to tell me to join a diabetes program or participate in a wellness program and they are clearly overweight/unhealthy what kind of impact is that program going to have? You wouldn’t take financial advice from your plumber would you?