Still Life, With Cats

I flew to DC today, for work. Because it would take less time for me to drive to San Francisco and take the direct flight across the country, than to fly out of Sacramento and deal with the inevitable layover, I left the house at 9am for a 1pm flight. This worked reasonably well, as I missed the worst of the morning rush hour (although there is really no escaping the Berkeley brake check if one is driving in daylight hours, and we shall not speak of the toll plaza crunch).

On the way to the airport, I saw a car with the license plate “CATBUS1”, and I had so many questions! Does it belong to a person who does cat rescue? A vet? Are the cats commuting to work? If this is Cat Bus 1, does this then suggest that somewhere out there is a Cat Bus 2, or more? Can one sign up to ride on the Cat Bus? Is this a potential career option I hadn’t ever considered? And also, is it possible I haven’t had nearly enough caffeine yet?

The flight to DC was uneventful, in that there was very little turbulence, I had an empty seat next to me, and I got a lot of knitting done. The taxi ride to the hotel was fun, because the driver was very chatty and somehow we got on the subject of that big Powerball jackpot a year or so back, and what we would do with it, and it turns out he’d given it a *lot* of thought, so we came to an agreement that, should one happen to win 1.6 billion bucks, real estate is totally the way to go, and if the words ‘and you could also then buy a presidential election’ were uttered, well, that’s between the two of us.

‘Tis the season for Holidailies.