I just met the future version of me

This might surprise some of you, but I have been known to talk a lot, and it doesn't matter if I know you or not. Last week, I met the future version of me.

I was in the doctor's office for a routine checkup, and I was finally called into the back. My actual appointment didn't take long, and I rushed out of the office so that I could get back to work. Well, that was my intention.

In the waiting room an elderly gentleman was sitting by himself waiting for his appointment. No other patients were there. As I walked toward the door he asked me if only one doctor was working today. I answered, and he then continued talking for the next 15-20 minutes on a wide range of topics. I gathered he was just happy to have an audience so I stood there quietly and nodded occasionally.

Here are some of the topics that were brought up:

• On his first visit to this clinic the doctor stuck a needle THIS BIG (hands held 2 feet apart) up his butt.
• Seventy-five is a good age to die. After that, the body starts falling apart, and you spend most of your time in the doctor's office.
• He was 87.
• When Indians (Native Americans) turned forty, they went off into the woods to die. That seemed like a good idea to him.
• He voted for Obama because the other clique had their chance for 8 years.
• I should invest in silver.

All-in-all, it was an entertaining conversation, albeit a bit one-sided. I guess now I know what my friends go through. :)

That time I tried to give my cat a bath

Sometimes, something can seem like a good idea beforehand, only to be monumentally stupid in retrospect. Like the time I tried to give my cat a bath.

Cats are largely low maintenance pets. They poop in a litter box, eat when they're hungry, and take care of their own bathing needs. However, several years ago my cat Boo got into something stinky and needed a bath. So I thought I would be a good owner and give him one.

Boo is a special cat. He's very skittish (thus the name Boo) and doesn't really like to have new things sprung on him. He also still has his claws, and I thought giving him a bath in the tub would be a struggle.

So I had the brilliant idea of bathing him in my shower. It was a stand-alone shower that had a detachable shower head so cleaning him would be really easy. Or that's what I thought.

I didn't want to get water all over the floor --- and I didn't want him to escape --- so I had another brilliant idea: I'll be in the shower with Boo and keep the door closed. I didn't want to get my clothes wet, yet I also didn't want any dangling body parts to be misinterpreted as a cat toy, so I wore swimming trunks in the shower. Plus, being naked would have been a little creepy.

Initially, Boo's bath went well. And by initially, I mean the first one or two seconds. After that, he managed to get lose from my grip and attempted to jump out of the shower. The shower walls were six feet high, so I knew he wasn't going to get out.

Surprisingly, he came very close to the top of the wall. Another surprise was what happened after his jump. Since he was now falling from a high jump, he stuck out his paws to latch onto anything close by.

Which happened to be me. My screams could be heard for miles when Boo's claws dug into my chest and stomach. I immediately opened the shower door so that he could get out and I could attend to my injuries.

As I stood in the shower, in my swimming trunks, rinsing the blood off my body, I thought, "You know, maybe this wasn't such a good idea."