So, I was taking a very important personal phone call this evening. And because you can hear everything in the apartment that I pay for, and because Miss Muffett is always parked on her pudgy-pork-roast tuffett in the master suite, I took my call outside.
I was sitting with my feet in the pool, SEVERAL floors down, and Miss Thang texted me that she could HEAR me.
GAH.
I wasn’t talking about her. But man, was I annoyed. I seriously CANNOT escape her. I was at sea level, yo — I could easily have jumped into the Intracoastal and let the Muck Monster devour me!
Like, bitch, MOVE OUT so I can make/take my calls in my space, OK?
This actually tops a story from the other night. My room is a fishbowl — it’s tiny, it’s on a corner and it has two sliding-glass doors. And Princess is always waddling from one end of the balcony to the other.
So, I was asleep, and my cat Kadie was curled up at the foot of the bed, facing north, as she likes to do. (That’s where the dock is — lovely view at night.)
Apparently the UEOEH decided to enter my room from the one sliding-glass door, kidnap Kadie, and take the cat to HER room.
WTF? I mean, really. Kadie is a loud cat when she’s disturbed. (Read: She’s quiet for/with me but goes apeshit with the UEOEH.) I’m shocked that I slept through this.
But who the hell goes into someone’s room when they’re asleep? For fuck’s sake. Isn’t it bad enough that I can’t fucking blog without her finding reasons to stand near me and pet the kitty, who’s surgically attached to my side?
Grr, I hate her so much. Go away. Go away. GO AWAY.