I'm alive...

... yeah.

8 weeks old, brought her home yesterday. The other two cats go between being mystified and pissed. Originally the vet named her Lyric, but we renamed her Curie, after Marie Curie (and also because she's just insanely curious about everything). She's the runt of her litter, and about 7 or 8 weeks old. Her favorite toy appears to be milk rings. :)


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(Let's see how long I can remember to update this thing ( Read more... )

Since someone nudged me (*peer*), I suppose that means people are wondering if I'm still alive ( Read more... )

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Sitting here without a job, having been searching in earnest for close to eight weeks, it's normal to be discouraged, depressed, and more than a little down on myself. I try to accept the valleys with the peaks, despite what sometimes feels like severe bipolar disorder. The elation at landing an interview turns into panic and then depression as the ( Read more... )

Blargh. Job search has been tottering along for 2 months now. I have some leads, but nothing definite. The good thing is that I have (well, had) enough savings to stumble along for another little while after losing my job. I would not have been able to do that six months ago. I wish I had had a little more time to get my feet back under me, but ( Read more... )

I may have covered this before. I don't know if I've ever drawn this parallel before, though. I think I just thought of it, in my insomniac state.

Have you ever noticed that the very (beg pardon) rabid proponents of furrydom tend not to accept that someone doesn't like furries? If you say it's not your thing, you get asked "Well... did you try it ( Read more... )

Dear Neighbour,

I would like you to roll over and DIE so I can get some sleep. Failing that, stop sending your kids out to play under my window at 7AM, or I will start sending my cats to yowl outside your window at 3AM and see how YOU like it.

No love lost,
Me

http://www.writeinbush.com/

Epic. Facepalm.