Typical.

What's going on in my life? Nothing. Everything is the same as always, for the most part.

Ummm...let's go watch the grass grow.

Whee.



Ok, now that that's over: My Aunt broke her knee and is in the path of the stupid hurricane, so she had to be moved into some convalescent center, and she hates it. But I can't hear about it because I guess she can't get to a phone right now. Or perhaps she's on the phone to another relative. As much as she kvetches (she *is* related to my mom, after all), they've probably taken away her phone and locked her in a broom closet.

This is like, proof positive that I come about my bent to bitch honestly, through the wonders of genetics. The only difference is that I'm diluted enough paternally that the only place I do it is here, for the most part. And in my head. :-)

Ok, ok--and to my cats.

Butsoanyway.

I am pretty sure that Aunt is ok. At least, she's more ok there than she would be just about anywhere else. Whatever it is has a generator and I'm sure is sturdily built, and all of that. So I'm kind if worried, but not like a total Ancodia-worry. It rates probably a four on a Likert scale. :-) I can live with fours. And I'm certain she'll call me bright and early tomorrow to tell me all about how abuzled she is there.

Squoosh is getting bigger!

I took some pictures of him (and Romeo and Weebie). I'll get around to posting them, but right now it'd involve getting up. Getting up is bad. My heels hurt. :-\ I think it's my damn shoes, combined with the fact that I didn't get to stop all weekend; Eviljob was a-hopping. But I'm glad that I got some pictures of him before he goes and gets all huge and stuff. His coat is so soft and shiny! I guess I have Science Diet and genes to thank for that. He has hidden tabby stripes, and some sprinkles of white fur that make him look like he's going prematurely grey. :-)

Dr Romeo Detroit, COMS, is just his regular grumpy self. He has a little ear infection that cropped up after the respiratory infection went away, and is grumpy 'cos he has to take eardrops twice a day.

Miss Weebie is her normal Princess Headbutt self. She sleeps, eats, and headbutts. I call her my invisible cat. She's very low maintenance, as long as you're ready for possible assassination attempts. If enough food accumulates in the house, she just might go for it one day. Princess Headbutt is a very mercenary little girl. Favourite phrase: "Will kill you for chicken! My chicken!" And she's stealthy; if the Navy SEALs ever start recruiting felines, Weebie's already half-trained--as long as the enemy doesn't try to pet her. When you pet her, she gets very loving and sheds a lot. And headbutts you. A lot.

And I'm crampy. Very, very crampy. Being crampy blows goats.

I have to figure out what in the hell I'm going to do. I know what I want to do in a life-sense, but...well...I'm having motivational issues. My actual career part is going as ok as it can be going right now, but there are still things I want to do. And I'm not doing them. And that annoys me.

So why don't I do them? I don't know. I really, honestly don't. Last year I swore to myself that I would, and I haven't. And all this weekend I've been grumpy at myself because of it. Maybe it's me being passive-aggressive towards myself; maybe it's fear. I really don't know.

:-) Maybe I should force myself to do it 'cos I want Squoosh to be proud of me.

Well, what's a better reason?