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Apr. 12th, 2007 08:49 pmI drove Brandon's new car today.
Yeah.
SERIOUS CAR ENVY. GOD.
Something pissed (or puked, but I'm pretty sure pissed) in my room. A LOT. ALL OVER. IT'S DISGUSTING. And it happened in the two hours that the ferret's were out. I'm pretty sure it's not the ferrets, because I don't think they can produce that much fluid, expel it from their little bodies and still be alive.
So, I'm upstairs scrubbing the rug and freaking out because, yeah, I've just had two REALLY SHITTY weeks, THANKS, and I'm really stressed out. Mom demands to know who didn't clean the cat box because Dad specifically called to ask someone to do that (I was the one who picked up by he didn't ask anything, he just mentioned, so there was no way in hell I was going to touch it, I clean the ferret box everyday kthxbai.) And gets all huffy when no one volunteers (uh, hello, pick up cat piss? Already doing that.).
So I go back upstairs and start cleaning up some more and I find more spots (and how the hell did this happen in two hours, JESUS.). And I take down an old notebook from England (with all of my notes on MI5 in it) because ew, ew, ew, ew , ew there's piss all over it. And two pillows. And an old record. AND JESUS IS THAT MY TABLET?! Oh, thank God, no.
At that point it was either cry or drop kick the cat. I, of course, start bawling like a baby.
Family, just so you know, when I say "Nothing!" when someone asks me what's wrong, that really is the answer. Nothing is wrong (you know, except for the obvious fact that something is), and really, I don't want to talk about it. Let me have my freak out in peace, ok? Thanks.
JESUS.
Yeah.
SERIOUS CAR ENVY. GOD.
Something pissed (or puked, but I'm pretty sure pissed) in my room. A LOT. ALL OVER. IT'S DISGUSTING. And it happened in the two hours that the ferret's were out. I'm pretty sure it's not the ferrets, because I don't think they can produce that much fluid, expel it from their little bodies and still be alive.
So, I'm upstairs scrubbing the rug and freaking out because, yeah, I've just had two REALLY SHITTY weeks, THANKS, and I'm really stressed out. Mom demands to know who didn't clean the cat box because Dad specifically called to ask someone to do that (I was the one who picked up by he didn't ask anything, he just mentioned, so there was no way in hell I was going to touch it, I clean the ferret box everyday kthxbai.) And gets all huffy when no one volunteers (uh, hello, pick up cat piss? Already doing that.).
So I go back upstairs and start cleaning up some more and I find more spots (and how the hell did this happen in two hours, JESUS.). And I take down an old notebook from England (with all of my notes on MI5 in it) because ew, ew, ew, ew , ew there's piss all over it. And two pillows. And an old record. AND JESUS IS THAT MY TABLET?! Oh, thank God, no.
At that point it was either cry or drop kick the cat. I, of course, start bawling like a baby.
Family, just so you know, when I say "Nothing!" when someone asks me what's wrong, that really is the answer. Nothing is wrong (you know, except for the obvious fact that something is), and really, I don't want to talk about it. Let me have my freak out in peace, ok? Thanks.
JESUS.
