I know, Tom, it's super sad.

Okay, I've wrangled a vet appointment for the cat for Sunday at 9:45 (on the exact opposite side of town from my Dad, who we're having lunch with at 12:30; literally, the vet is about 20-25 minutes west and my Dad is 20 minutes east, and how do these things keep happening to me???).

Now I have a crapton of work to do, a cake to bake for a shindig tonight, and I really should go down to the ballpark to register for the Redlegs Run tomorrow morning, but I think we'll just have to go extra early tomorrow and register then, because I have done run out of time.

And fuck the ants in the pantry, man. Fuck them. (Tim put down Terro, but the fact that they're choosing to hang out on the shelves with all the plates and bowls, rather than the food shelves, is [1] disturbing, because WHY are they on that shelf when there is no food there???, and [2] means that as soon as we've verified the ants are all dead and/or gone, I'm going to need to wash all the plates and bowls and scrub that shelf, and did I mention I have run out of time????)

Rebecca, you are awesome with a side of awesome sauce, I'm sorry the lows are so low lately. Also you are uber productive with your time after work. (My only advice would be to find the time to be less productive and more restful, but since I fail to follow my own advice on this matter - like EVER - I cannot find fault there.)

And dang you, sarameg, I am still plexing over my new glasses and now I know there's a Fluevog sale too? And I REALLY need new pretty work shoes. My work shoe situation is DIRE.

Also, I feel you on the ants, Steph. We get a seasonally-timed invasion in late summer and I am always the one who has to battle them. Ugh!

Sometimes ants just want to be inside for no apparent reason. Maybe it's too hot outside. Or they got freaked out by Mercury's transit.

For about an hour as I was not quite awake this morning I was absolutely certain today was Saturday. So waking up entirely and remembering that it is not was quite the disappointment.

Okay, I've wrangled a vet appointment for the cat for Sunday at 9:45 (on the exact opposite side of town from my Dad, who we're having lunch with at 12:30; literally, the vet is about 20-25 minutes west and my Dad is 20 minutes east, and how do these things keep happening to me???).

Can you change your plans with your dad? Sounds like a lot less stress for all. Blame Hillary if you need to!

We don't have ants, but the goddamn termites are swarming. I hate them more than the stinging caterpillars and flying roaches.

Can you change your plans with your dad? Sounds like a lot less stress for all.

I would, except I talked to Dad this morning before I made the vet appointment, and he was really excited about seeing us, and kept repeating "I can't wait to see you both," and mentioned that he hasn't seen us since January, which doesn't seem possible but I think is actually right. So...we really should go. And I want to; it's just going to be a lot of running around.

Can you drop the cat off at the vet's and pick him/her up later in the afternoon? My vet allows that to accommodate my work schedule.

I do that with my vet too, or at least I used to with my previous vet. We dumped our old vet when Folly died.

Can you drop the cat off at the vet's and pick him/her up later in the afternoon?

Did I not say that? t checks And nope, I didn't. Yeah, we can drop the cat off at 9:45 and pick her up before 5. It's just a lot of running around to go 25 minutes west at 9 a.m., come home, take a shower, run out the door at noon, drive 20 minutes east, have lunch, come home, let the dog out, drive back to the vet, get the cat, and come home. And optionally get groceries somewhere in there, though maybe we can get groceries tomorrow.

I finished editing an article early, and it's gorgeous outside, so I ran downtown to register for the walk tomorrow. And now I'm working again, woo. And I need to bake a cake shortly.

I think I planned my week poorly.

I think I planned my week poorly.

t cue creepy ancient Templar Knight She chose . . . poorly.