(no subject)

With every death my apartment gets tidier. Oscar died a week and a half ago. I was able to get up his extra food and water bowls, the towels I left around for him to lie on wherever he got tired, and most of the long orange fur he shed everywhere. I also took the last of Janiene's sorted belongings to charity drop off (though there are still caches of her stuff in storage and on shelves; sorting through it takes multiple passes, and I can only do so much at a time).

My cats range from 13-16 years old. Assuming none of them are actually immortal, but the time it's just me I might have a clean place. That will probably be a marker for my own imminent demise.