Thursday morning started perfectly. I had a little bit of that gross post-beer taste in my mouth, but that was the only sign of the Wednesday night birthdayathon. The temperature was perfect: it had even been a little chilly the night before, which is why I was under my comforter. My brand new comforter (look, isn't it cute?) that I had ony pulled out of the packaging Wednesday night, because even though I can think, ooo, cheap cute blankie! during a heat advisory, I can't be bothered to open said blankie, or even move it further into the apartment than the top of the stairs.
Anyway, I go into the kitchen, apologize to the boys while giving them the last of their food, totally blaming this non-dress-wearing jerk for distracting me from catfood shopping the night before. I make breakfast. I take said breakfast back into my room, and have no sooner set everything down and gotten comfy again when I spy, over the edge of my mug, a certain furry someone who evidentally doesn't agree with me about the cuteness of the new comforter. He thinks it should be yellower and stinky, if you catch my drift. His jerkass brother agrees.*
Which is why I spent all of my work breaks yesterday at the laundromat. Don't worry, the smell seems to be all gone.
Which is why my mattress was still wet from stank-be-gone and I had to sleep on my futon couch last night.
Which is why I borrowed the livetrap from Becca and Kevin (stars of such stories as That Time I Got Stuck on the On-Ramp and You Can Rent a Fern!?).
Which is why I spent my 25 minute commute this morning listening to increasingly demanding mews, escalating into straight-up pissed off yowls once we got into the vet's office.
Which is why, I like to think, I was too distracted to notice what plastic container I grabbed this morning, leading me to mistakenly bring a brick of plain tofu, extra firm, for lunch. Yum.
I tried to take a picture of the caged furriness in my backseat, but my camera's battery decided to go off right then. And I'm really really hoping they'll still be woozy on the way back.
Mrow!
*Weirdly enough, Johnny was the first one to let go; usually any jerk behavior is started by the Legster.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
By calling Johnny "jerkass," it made me think you were still referring to me. In which case, I'm gonna piss on your blanket.
Cats are evil. My cat thinks EVERYTHING should be yellow and stinky. Maybe he's trying to tell me to redecorate?
Post a Comment