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Apollo 13 is one of my most favorite movies, and two different lines from it are chasing my brain around. One is Gene Kranz hollering "I don't WANT another ESTIMATE!" and the other is one of Nixon's advisors to one of the NASA guys: "OK, but I'm asking you, when will we KNOW?" I want to know before the weekend (well, depending on who you believe, we know now, but nobody's being official about it yet, and that's annoying). At least it's looking rather more like the alcohol of choice should be Zombie Killer instead of Blithering Idiot. But dammit, I want it over with.
I almost got Snip to stop tromping over, and sitting on, the keyboard, by reminding her that the thing on the floor in here is the cat bed that used to be in the bedroom. Once she got all four feet in it chasing the laser pointer dot, she remembered what it was. So now she stomps in here in the afternoon and goes to sleep in the cat bed, instead of stomping in here and getting in my face. Last week I'd had it with that and hissed at her. I hiss at one cat or the other about twice a year, when they decide that personal space is a Communist plot and don't take the hint that I'm not in the mood. I felt guilty about it almost instantly, though, because Snip cringed so hard (which is why I don't do it often). All was forgiven at dinnertime as usual. And she stays off the desk before about 4:30 these days.
I'm not logging on for work after Tuesday next week, and my goodness, do I ever need that. I hope the weather stays nice for at least Wednesday.
I almost got Snip to stop tromping over, and sitting on, the keyboard, by reminding her that the thing on the floor in here is the cat bed that used to be in the bedroom. Once she got all four feet in it chasing the laser pointer dot, she remembered what it was. So now she stomps in here in the afternoon and goes to sleep in the cat bed, instead of stomping in here and getting in my face. Last week I'd had it with that and hissed at her. I hiss at one cat or the other about twice a year, when they decide that personal space is a Communist plot and don't take the hint that I'm not in the mood. I felt guilty about it almost instantly, though, because Snip cringed so hard (which is why I don't do it often). All was forgiven at dinnertime as usual. And she stays off the desk before about 4:30 these days.
I'm not logging on for work after Tuesday next week, and my goodness, do I ever need that. I hope the weather stays nice for at least Wednesday.