Married, with Cats (but not TO my cats)

Married, with Cats (but not TO my cats)
Our family has two deliciously fluffy Maine Coon cats whom I adore; Sage and Cedar. Sage is black; Cedar is orange; the perfect color combination for Halloween.
Legend has it that these “wee beasties” were transported across the Atlantic when seafaring Europeans made their home in the New World. The cats had an important job to do: catch mice on the boats, so their stores of grain, bread and cheese wouldn’t be depleted by rodents. These cats settled in New England and set up residence. Coon cats evolved through the years to adapt to cold climate and harsh winters around Maine. They have long belly fur to keep them warm, large paws for walking on top of the snow, and a thick coat of fur. They are huge felines. A cross between a mountain lion and a normal mortal housecat. Females are typically 15-20 lbs. Males can top the scale at 25 or more. They are long and lean. Ours is 3 1/3 feet long, tip to tail. My husband likes to drape the female over his shoulders, like a large, living fur wrap. (We like our fur live.) Once a neighbor saw the enormous feline, spread out across my husband’s large shoulders, like one of Siegfried and Roy’s tigers. “What the hell is THAT!!!” he said.
Sage is an only kitten. Her mother, the aptly named jet black Panthera, was bred with only one male. Panthera had a single offspring. Sage got all the nutrition, love, and extra I.Q. points that breast milk (well, er, cat milk) supplies. She is the smartest cat I have ever known.
Cedar is the Forrest Gump of the cat world. If he could speak human he would say, “I may not be a smart cat, but I know what love is.”
Yet, these two are best friends. Opposites attract in marriage. Well, my two Maine Coons are the Batman and Robin of the feline world. Curled in a ball together for a nap, orange and black interlaced, to form a perfect yin and yang symbol.

I hate my job and I wanna quit!

I hate my job and I wanna quit! NOW!
One’s proximity to Washington DC is in direct proportion to one’s level of anxiety, stress, and insanity. My job was off-the-map stressful, highly political, and totally manic. The higher ups demanded things be completed not just yesterday, but the week before yesterday. Once, when given an impossible deadline, I told my boss that I’d take a time machine back to last week to start his assignment. Strangely, no one at my office seemed to get my offbeat sense of humor.
Under an especially heinous and torturous deadline I was in the office until 1:00 am, long after my boss, my bosses’ boss and the company president had all gone home. When I walked out to my car, a family of raccoons surrounded my car. Maybe they had report they wanted me to finish... I began to suspect something was wrong with this picture. Once, a crazy deadline made me nearly miss my 5-year anniversary dinner with my wonderful and patient husband. Busting my a ** to complete the job, I managed to get to the date an hour late. I pulled up to the restaurant, parked into a space in the back of the lot, stripped of my business suit and quick changed into eveningwear right in the car. Thankfully, the anniversary gift of emerald earrings made up for the truly gruelling work day.