Oh, Scrappy. Peace to you and your family. Wow.

Kristin, that sounds nightmarish to deal with. Yikes. Some kind of consultant is probably the way to go, though.

Yay on the weight loss, Jessica! Much less yay on the sinus ick.

{{{{{{Scrappy}}}}}}

I don't even know how to say anything beyond that right now, but those are most heartfelt {{{}}}s.

Amy, your comment when juxtaposed with my most recent one is cracking me up.

Byron, Seamus, and ND are all sound asleep at the foot of the bed. ND sprawled out to pet the kitties and passed out along with them. It's pretty damn cute.

Kristin, that sounds nightmarish to deal with. Yikes. Some kind of consultant is probably the way to go, though.

---

Jessica, I'm sorry you're sick, but that is great news about your weight loss! Go you!

Oops. Hee.

Cat/human pile does not require consultation!

Cat/human pile does not require consultation!

In our house it usually requires dog consultation, of a snuffling and tail-wagging variety.

I'm just trying to imagine what that consultation would consist of.

Consultant: Well, you appear to have a tired sound designer and two cats at the foot of your bed.

Me: Yes, precisely. What should I do about it?

Consultant: Have you considered a Roth IRA?

{{{Scrappy and Family}}} I'm so sorry, you. You all have been (and will continue to be) in my thoughts and prayers.

Good news from my doctors appointment = I'm down 20 lbs from my previous (pre-preggo) weight!

That's wonderful! Go Jess!

Bad news from my doctors appointment = I do in fact have The Monster Ick and a sinus infection on top of it, and can probably look forward to another week of feeling like crap, maybe two.

That's not so wonderful. I hope you feel better soon. (Dylan, let your mommy get some rest, 'k?)

Did I mention that one of them, after sitting there in the firing and never opening his mouth, hovered around my desk while I cleaned up and took down pictures of Matilda, trying to catch my eye and tell me how sorry he was? I wouldn't let him. Fuck that. He already thought I was distant, and he'd already fired me; how else was he going to punish me for not giving him the satisfaction of showing what a Nice Guy he really was? Fuck him.

Paging Mr. Monster Ick, Monster Ick, to the white courtesy phone: You have a new destination. There are festering pustule ex-bosses in San Francisco that require your best infection. They don't like distance, so please ensure that you get up close and personal with them. In fact, don't ever leave. Thank you for your attention.

In less vindictive news, Matilda likes her new xylophone. Which lives at Nana's house, not here.

Too damned cute! And thank the sweet baby Jesus for small favors. My mother about strangled her brother when he gifted me with a toy drum kit for Christmas when I was three. It did not live at his house, and it mysteriously disappeared a month later. All I had left was one lonely little drumstick.

Consultant: Well, you appear to have a tired sound designer and two cats at the foot of your bed.

Me: Yes, precisely. What should I do about it?

Consultant: Have you considered a Roth IRA?

Heh. The good consultant would say, "Snuggle!"