Went to get chicken.
Standing in line...Mr. good looking, blue-eyed 30 something with the new pickup truck is winking at me. Thinking about the cranky, irritable, sick, SO, that is stressing me out to the max
![GalileoAce :GA:](http://www.intensitysquared.com/Smileys/default/ga.gif)
, and the angry, augmentative teenager at home.
...and I wonder...if I ran away, how far could I get...is this guy is another Ted Bundy....and do I even care right now?
Then I think...but who will feed the cats?
![someone is a pondering a something :apondering:](http://www.intensitysquared.com/Smileys/default/m1703.gif)
So I pick up my bag of chicken, and climb back in my pickup, and go home and hold a cat.
It's all about the cats anymore some days.