(no subject)

Right. Apparently when you establish a weekday morning routine of feeding the cats around a certain time, they decide that weekends should not be respected. I awoke this morning to the pitter patter of little cat feet up and down my body. I opened my eyes and there was a greater-than-little cat nose two inches from mine, with two wide kitty eyes and the promise of imminent violence if Mommy did not get up and feed her darling kids right the hell now.

Cats. Go figure.

(Yes, I realize the irony coming from someone who goes by 'Kitty' half the time.)

After I go back to bed there will be more tidying of the apartment, 'cause I didn't get nearly as much done yesterday as I wanted to. And then there will be writing, goddammit. This shit has got to stop. Even if it's just prompt responses, this shit has got to stop. I am a bad writer type person. And have I mentioned this shit has got to stop?

On the plus side, curry and couscous yesterday was a success, at least in my book. May experiment with other ways to apply the sauce though, as caked on wasn't the end result I was looking for. Still, it was tasty good. It may have to be made again at some point.

And now, I go back to bed.