
Yesterday my latest edition of The Sun appeared in my mailbox. I somehow forgot about it until this morning. Realizing I didn't have time to read the entire publication, I read the "Correspondence" and "Sy Safransky's Notebook." As I was reading, Kitty Klaus jumped up on my chest/stomach making me rearrange the periodical. This happened almost simultaneously as I read, "The cat in my lap doesn't care what I ate last night, or what I weigh this morning. She doesn't care what words I'm writing, or whether they're good enough." Ahh, it looks like someone wrote my blog entry for me this morning.
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