I was running between meetings and trying to send an email on my phone, and instead of writing “Hi Stu” my phone autocorrected to “Hi Stud.” STUD. He was kind enough not to mention it, but I did not see it until several replies later and now I am dead.
Freida has developed the habit of kicking out tons of litter from the sides of box. I can’t have a box with a lid on it because even with the largest ones she can’t turn around. Litter boxes are SIZEIST! This glamourpuss deserves space to pee!
Anyway, I have a large mat, but the other day she kicked it out past the edges of the mat, then peed on it. The wet litter mixed in the carpet and made a slab of concrete. WHY, FREIDA, WHY!!!!!!!! I have been working on cleaning it up for a week and I am about ready to just burn the place down and pretend it never happened. Also, someone mysteriously pooped on the floor in front of my door, and I have a STRONG suspicion it was Alan. Maybe he did while Freida was mixing her concrete? DEVIL CATS.
When I’m nervous, I tend to mess with my cuticles. This often ends in me giving myself the Black Swan treatment. I was especially anxious before a presentation last week, and while I was speaking I felt a weird sensation on my hand. I looked down and had blood trickling down my finger. So that was gross and horrifying.