At some point today, I declared I was going to be sprung out of my little hole during daylight hours. The cheers that erupted from various Twitterfriends was encouraging. And then, at 10 p.m., I came home. *sigh*
The worst part of it is not that I didn’t finish my work (and what I did finish, well, sucked), but that a certain Calico cat took a big, steaming, bloody dump in the middle of my eggshell-colored duvet cover. I just washed that thing this past weekend, too.
I noticed that my bedroom had an eau de barnyard scent about it right away — thank God I figured it out before I absentmindedly tossed my purse on the bed, as is my habit. And the poo pile, of course, permeated the duvet itself. Mmm, yummy.
I always tell my mom that she’s getting custody of my tuxedo cat (those two are best friends — good for them). Today, I declared she’s getting both of ’em.
In other news, a friend texted me that he was rushed to the emergency room with chest pains but needed to know who got booted off of “Idol.” Ha. I’m assuming the condition isn’t THAT serious, because knowing the outcome of the show (which I missed — I turned it off at 9:58) wouldn’t exactly be on my bucket list. *prayers for my friend*
All right, so someone had a worse evening than me. I can stop complaining now. 😉