Greg went out of town for the weekend, and I lost an hour of my life yesterday afternoon watching him pack. Greg’s packing regimen used to be simple — one pair of pants, two shirts, and enough socks and underwear for each day. And this was always his packing regimen. Even when we were going away for two weeks, he would pack only one pair of pants … wait, actually, he didn’t even pack them, he just wore them. He would lay out one pair of pants to wear the whole trip. Then, he would stuff everything else into his backpack.

Times have changed. Greg agonized over every article of clothing yesterday. The high temperature in Wisconsin, where he was headed, was forecast to be in the 70s. I told him to pack a couple T-shirts and one sweater. Well, he didn’t have any T-shirts to wear. Or at least that’s what he said. What about the green one? No, it’s too fitted. What about the black one? No, that one gets too hot. He couldn’t even decide which tae kwon do uniform to wear because both the drawstring pants and the elastic pants have their advantages.

When he finally had a week’s worth of clothes lying on the bed, he turned and looked at his backpack. “This isn’t going to fit in there, is it?” he asked. “I don’t think so,” I said. “And you haven’t even packed your makeup yet.”

My husband is turning into a girl.

Winston often attacks Sarah. She has a great reaction, which he very clearly enjoys. Only occasionally will he attack me. Last night, he bit my leg and actually drew a little blood. It was just a little scratch, but still blood. Those are the times that make us question whether Winston should be here, or if we should release him into some jungle.

Winston is a hunter. He’s a tiger. He may be a bit on the small side, but he’s got all of the instincts and none of the inhibitions. In our first home, we had crickets. The house had just been finished, and there were still a few inside. It seemed that every morning we’d wake up to cricket body parts strewn about an area. Limbs were torn off, and sometimes he’d still be batting around a one-legged cricket who could now only waddle in circles. Winston is a brutal hunter.

About seven months ago, we had the fear of watching Winston play with a scorpion. He flicked the thing across the kitchen as Sarah shrieked. We knew he didn’t know what he was doing. Sarah grabbed Winston and ran, while I killed the scorpion. We’ve seen a few scorpions around the yard, but no more in the house.

This morning I came down to see scorpion body parts strewn across the reading room. A pincher was ripped off. A tail was in half. The head was squashed. This wasn’t a battle, but a slaughter. It was torture. There are clearly no rules of war for a cat.

Winston chases us, bites us, and gets us up three hours early to feed him a second breakfast. He isn’t an easy roommate. He isn’t an easy friend. But he’s a necessary one. Winston is our hunter and keeps us safe from all threats internal, be it cricket, scorpion, or excessive cat food.

I started a new job yesterday. I am relieved to be exiting the textbook industry because I was more out of place there than a palm tree in Minnesota.

I can’t say yet how well I will like the new job, but I got some good signs yesterday. For one thing, the company already gave me an employee badge that grants me access to the building.

The badge at my previous job served no purpose. Yes, it had my name on it, but it didn’t open any of the locked doors in the building. This meant I had to schlep my purse, lunch bag, water bottle, walking shoes, and reading materials the long distance from the parking lot to the main entrance while teetering on heels and trying to prevent my skirt from blowing up over my head because the wind here never seems to slow. If you’re thinking that I should have put on the walking shoes and carried the heels instead, you are absolutely correct. But I am a girl, and I don’t want to make that sort of entrance. If my skirt is over my head when I walk through that main entrance, then I least better have on a killer pair of shoes. But I digress.

The other nice thing about my new job is that as soon as my co-workers met me, they made offerings of food and drink (No, not that kind of drink. Just coffee.). And they told me where the not-so-secret stash of chocolate resides. I think this is an office I can learn to like.