The other day, during the children's vacation, I broke off from all the family togetherness to go out for coffee with a friend from Burning Man. This bothered the children. They couldn't see the point and were judgmental, with Iris going so far as to mumble darkly about her mother "going out for coffee with creepy friends."
"You people think I don't exist without you!" I said. "You think I'm like Schrodinger's cat, and when you're not looking at me, it's questionable whether I exist or not. When you're in school, you think I flicker out of existence. Newsflash: sometimes I go out for coffee! Sometimes even lunch!"
Iris glowered, but little Lola took up the discussion. "I think Muzzy exists," she said. "I don't think you go out of the house, though. I think you spend the day feeding the cats and reading a book."
Schrödinger's cat had both states, not one or the other. It was both dead and alive until observed.
However, in either state it still existed.
Maybe you're referring to a different, de-umlatted, cat, though.
Well, what I suppose I meant was that it was in a sort of stasis, its aliveness being questionable without observation. I am oh too lazy to bring in the umlauts. sadly.
I never understood who cleaned it's litter box
i think you spend the day kissing your stove and plotting the overthrow of humanity.
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