i have just gotten out of the shower/bath. it was imperative that i take a nice, long, hot soak because i’ve managed to pull 3 different muscles this week and came home one giant pile of aches.
in theory, this would’ve been a nice cap to the evening and i’d hopefully have drifted off to a semi-restful sleep.
in theory…
in practice, before i could even do anything in the bathroom i got to clean up a big, lovely pile of cat crap. huge.pile.of.crap. because it’s not like there aren’t two functioning litter boxes in this house, oh no…the bathroom tile is apparently the choice place to take a dump. and thus, my need for a muscle-relaxing spell in the tub increased twofold because i felt *that much* dirtier.
about seven different kinds of pruned up later, i managed to get sufficiently clean & somewhat less achy only to come out of the bathroom and find a lovely, watery vomit puddle.
fab-u-lous.
just what i fucking needed. hooray!
and, considering the fact that my little hellspawn was asleep on my pillow when i managed to side-step the ickiness and get to my room, all signs point to a certain glob of disgusting that is masquerading as a cat. not that i ever doubted his stinking involvement with the whole debacle.
thus, my plan for a few moments of relaxation before bedtime went off without a hitch: cleaning up cat crap & nearly stepping in vomit.
awesome.
and by “awesome” i mean…fuck.this.shit.
(but not literally, otherwise i’ll have to go take another shower, and i’m feeling kind of water-logged)
