Permanent press kitteh

The whole valley has been running on too few cylinders since the Supermoon started to form into its giant and bright self, but the end result has been everyone turning in endless circles rather than simply puttering to a stop.  The hospital census has been busting at the seams, and with many psychosocially complex cases.  I entered work on Monday to find eight evals to complete within four hours.  They take an average of one hour per eval when considering all the steps.  (Chart review, check with nurse, check with social work, find equipment needed, perform eval, find extra equipment like chair alarms, find and tell nurse updates, find and tell social work discharge plan/needs, ...and then finally document).  I had to call in backup and get three covered by other therapists when they had time in the afternoon, and luckily a couple ended up not needing PT. 

This morning got off to an odd start from the get-go.  Nathan had a work meeting in Colorado Springs all day and decided to wake up early to drive to/from the same day in lieu of staying at a hotel the night before.  To be at the meeting at 8 a.m. he had to wake up at 3:30.  To his credit, he did so without needing to be punched awake by me.  And he even ran the clothes drier an extra time.  I got up at my customary 4:20 a.m. and managed a brief and groggy exchange before he left at 4:35.  He is only up that early a few times a year for races, but seemed rather alert.  I was impressed.  If only he'd join me as an early riser more often.

And so at 5:15 I was in the bathroom prepping for my run.  Heard scratches from behind the washer/drier, muttered to myself about another mouse.  Last time Sadie actually ate the ENTIRE mouse while we were away for the day, only to then come home two days later to a bowel explosion of mouse body parts across the kitchen floor when it finally forced its way through the other end.  I didn't want to go through that again.  She is not a big cat to be pulling such shenanigans. 

The scratching then seemed louder, and not necessarily from the back corner of the room.  I glanced over again. 

Merus was inside the drier.  Door closed.  Pawing at the window.

See below.

Apparently when Nathan grabbed whatever he needed after the dry cycle Merus then jumped inside.  She was mostly happy to be in a pile of still-warm fresh laundry, but after being in there an hour she wanted to be pet.  Because what else would you want as a feline. 

At least he didn't re-start the drier.  And good thing I found her before leaving for an hour-plus run and then to work.

(And of course I had to take a photo while laughing uncontrollably before letting her out.)