A fecal matter.
Cat litter. That's what it's come to. Amazing isn't it? Fifty years old, a college degree, home ownership and it comes down to cat litter. Amazing and appropriate both. Monday night I decided to forgo the supermarket trip in lieu of the pet store approach to buying cat litter. It's on the way home and the supermarket parking lot is a congested knot of clutter. Another executive decision executed. What I hadn't bargained on was the huge price mark-up for things in high-end pet stores. I wandered in thinking I was going to easily wander out. Besides, it was cat litter, right? How much could it cost? Try twelve bucks. Twelve dollars made a tank of gasoline look like a bargain. At least the gas gets me someplace. This gets me nowhere except wandering the store in tiny circles looking ... there must be a two dollar bag of cat litter here someplace, right? I found the eight dollar bag, which was actually a plastic container with a lid, as though I'm supposed to po...