The Day I Thought It Was Wednesday

Today is Wednesday. I thought all along it was Wednesday. But then my mother and my sister –

My mother and my sister were one stop short from going up in arms about how I got the day wrong. Today is THURSDAY.

But of course. Of course it’s Thursday and of course I was one day behind in my own little world.

That kitten. He just isn’t as frisky as he used to be when I left last night. Now he’s all sleep and baby meows. I worry.

Then there’s “True Blood.” I must’ve been watching too much of it, as I woke up thinking I was in the parking lot of Merlotte’s. And then somewhere in my head I would think, “Where’s Bill?” Only to realize I am going to be late for work if I don’t get my butt out of the bed RIGHT THAT INSTANCE.


The Usual Saturday. Except…

I found myself spending around 12 hours in my office most days this week. It’s weird…

I only had an hour’s worth of sleep last Monday and it feels like until now I haven’t yet recovered from that lack of sleep. I thought I’d be sleeping the whole Saturday away but here I am, at past 1 in the morning, and I just woke up. The good news is that: One – I have chocolate-covered marshmallows stashed in the fridge. Two – I have coffee stashed in my bag.

I was going to go for a McDonald’s delivery (Yes, I love McDonald’s) but changed my mind when I saw that my wallet’s cash still had to survive two more days of work until my next payday.

Right now I’m just surfing the web. I even managed to stumble into a good horror blog – Love train for the Tenebrous Empire – through Twitter. My cat is asleep and I’m hoping to high heavens that he won’t wake up until after another couple of hours or so. I have shut the bathroom door in case he decides to be in the Dora the Explorer mood and accidentally drops himself into the toilet bowl. That happened to the cat while I was at work and my sister was kind enough to bathe it. Regardless, I do NOT want a repeat of that dropping-into-the-toilet-bowl episode.

Should’ve Renamed Him “The Cat from Hell”

So I impulsively bought a kitten last Friday and I didn’t realize how much I was subconsciously wanting a laid-back kitten until I got a chubby 2.5 month-old Australian Blue Mist/Chinchilla Persian who refuses to listen to instructions, whether said instructions were delivered firmly or gently.

On said kitten’s first day with me and my family, I was torn between chucking him out the street along with his toys, food and water bowls plus one collar and two leashes and pampering him with the best food and the best toys. In the end, he’s always too adorable to kick out our house.

I named my kitten Adam but after just two days of him screwing our otherwise gentle (although filled with boisterous laughter, corny jokes and crazy antics and squabbles) household, I realized I should’ve name him Hurricane or Cat from Hell.

It’s a love-hate thing.