I clean.
I clean HARD.
Just not ...... often.
You can measure the times I clean by a couple few ways.
1, It's super Tuesday and another presidential election has rolled around
2, The winter or the summer olympics has just started.
3, Its February, April, June, August, October or December.
4 Someone is coming to visit.
5, I'm moving.
Unfortunately Micki knows nothing about Presidents, Greeks, every other month, and doesn't give a flying damn if someone is coming to visit.
What she COULD give a flying damn about is if we're planning on moving, and THAT is precisely what she thinks is happening when I start my bi-annual shake down of the apartment. EVERY TIME.
" Holy fuck, we're moving again! " Gotta hide! We're am I gonna hide? Oh I'll hide in the ......
( She always hides in the same place, the kitchen cabinet.)
.... Kitchen cabinet! He'll never look there! "
Then I hear *trot trot trot* ... *creeeeeak* ... *thunk*, and I know I wont see the cat for 24 to 36 hours.
Unless she gets hungry. And she's usually hungry.
Micki was an alley cat that I adopted about ten years ago when she was a kitten. I fed her some bolAGNA. ( I have to always bol-AG-na, I don't know why the G is so important to say.) I guess I'm stuck with her.

So she's got the syndrome that stray animals get who have had to go without food for long periods of time. They have to scrounge for a meal any way they can by turning tricks on the boulevard, or selling Drakkar in the Kroger parking lot.... anyway, if she gets down to her last nine pebbles of cat food she thinks its time for me to take action lest she waste away into nine cat molecules.
I came home the other night and checked her bowl and she had food in it. So I think she's cool. When I get home in the evening if there isn't any food in her bowl I'll pour a little in till the next morning. Just to get her through the shakes.
By nine the cat realizes something is amiss. " He doesn't appear to be making any moves to fill up the bowl. Ohhhhhhh no..... "
Then she starts to become highly agitated and it seems like she's, vibrating?
The next phase is full graze mode which starts with inspecting the carpet for any stray wads of food that got missed. Finding no actual food, it's time to settle for shreds of paper, carpet fuzz, a penny, plankton, or a shoe.
Once she figures out that I'm not going to cave in and that she is indeed JUST FINE, she enters phase 2. Full out pissant mode.
In this phase the cat mopes around muttering under her breath obscenities about me and the dubious nature of my parents relationship.
I ignore this and act as if nothing is wrong.
Now it's time for bed.
I crawl in and cover up with the blanket over my head. Shortly, I feel a cat heave herself up onto the bed with me and begin the final phase of her dissatisfaction with me. The stomping. But now it seems she has decided to accept her fate of starving for six whole hours until morning. She walks up onto my side and lays lengthwise down it with her head and forepaws and the side of my own head.
Well okay cat. Now go to sleep.
I reach up to scratch her on the side of her head ..... wondering when she started attaching her tail to the middle of her forehead.