Work and poetry

As planned, I'm working on my sleeve at work today. The office is as quiet as a tomb, so I should be able to get a nice bit done. After a while, I think I'll take a break and enter the reward codes from those Coke caps. That is, if the snow holds off. We got a little last night and this morning, just an inch or so. Nothing to give me any trouble driving to work. But we're supposed to get more today and tonight, with a total accumulation of 6-8 inches. If it starts snowing in earnest, I'm gonna blow this popsicle stand.

The b/f is, apparently, somewhat at loose ends today (poor man--he doesn't knit). When he finds himself with time to kill, he tends to clean. Usually the kitchen, and you can bet money there will be bleach involved (operating rooms should be as sanitized as our kitchen when he's done with it). The cats seem to like the smell of bleach for some reason; if he cleans up a spot on the floor with bleach, Hilfy and Yitzhak will roll around on that spot. All of which I share with you so you can understand the poem he sent me:

Where are you?
You're not here
Lost
Bleach the kitchen
The tang
Draws a cat to my feet
Maybe I'll boil out the coffeemaker

I love that man.