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You know. A day like this …


Ever since Fiona wormed her way into my house, I’ve had nothing but trouble. Not trouble exactly. More like worms, actually.

I went to the vet and got medicine for round worms. They gave me a liquid-y gel stuff in a syringe so it wasn’t too traumatic for me or the cats. Then I realized Fiona had tapeworms, too. So I went back to the vet, but this time they gave me pills. Half a pill for Fiona and a pill and a half for Indy. That’s when the trouble started. Fiona gave me a hard time with the syringe, but she swallowed her little half pill easily. Indy? Not so much. I shot them both in her mouth but she spit out the whole pill, so I clamped her jaw shut and blew on her nose to make her swallow the half pill. Then I tried to get her to take the other pill. I’m surprised I survived.

TRC is a sweet, gentle cat. She really is. Until you try to make her swallow a pill. I have a gouge across the palm of my hand … a long scratch down my arm … and a bruised ego. I decided to take her up to the vet so they could do it, but I couldn’t get her in the carrier. By that time she was growling, hissing, and crying at me, so I gave up. I crushed the pill in her food … she won’t touch it.  Smart cat. So I guess a trip to the vet is in her future. Damn it.

The first part of my day didn’t involve cats, but it did involve a happy pill because I was ready to throttle people. Griggsy texted me a nonsense message last night. I asked her what the hell she was babbling about … her response was “This is Griggs”  Well, no shit. But I still had no idea what she was talking about. Then she called me slow. Ohhhh no you dinnit!!!! My reaction to her last night should have been my clue that today was going to be a major write-off. No, for those of you brave enough to even think it (but not brave enough to say it) it isn’t PMS. It’s like PMS, but I know that is not the case this time. My brain screams at me to stop being a bitch, but I have very little control over it. I spend most of my day with my teeth clenched, trying not to speak. I swear to God, if this is what I have to look forward to in the next few years, I don’t think my family or coworkers are going to live through it.

It is hormonal, I think, but it’s also because I have a lot on my mind. When I have a lot on my mind, I play games that force me to concentrate. While I’m focused on the game, my subconscious works on whatever problem I am wrestling with. I just took this snapshot today.

I moved up to level 2, which should still be fairly easy, right? If you don’t want to click to embiggen, I’ll just tell you that I’ve dropped 17 games in a row.  I’ve played 54 and only won 6. I’ve managed to draw twice. So I’ve actually lost 46 games, but I’ve interspersed 6 wins and 2 draws in there … right before I lost 17 straight.

On the bright side, I got a B+ in Java II.  I wonder what I could have done had I actually understood what I was doing ….