Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Ah...the Joy of Kittens

I had to take mine to the vet yesterday for the rest of their shots. Of course, they played 'poor, tortured kitty' the whole way there and back - in fact, one of them was doing a Bea Arthur-esque yowl. It freaked me out. (I'm guessing the Bea wannabe was Daphne, as poor Zoe still can't meow. She can only manage a really pathetic squeak.)

Because I'm a sucker and felt bad they were jabbed with a needle, I decided to let them roam free last night when I was trying to sleep. We were drama-free for awhile and I was almost asleep. Suddenly, I heard a 'whoosh' and felt nails on my scalp. Zoe decided my head was a big toy that she needed to attack. It freaked me out! I removed her from my head and tried to go back to sleep. I was once again almost asleep when 'whoosh' ... she attacked my elbow!

At this point, I'd had enough. No more kittens in my bedroom until they develop daytime playtimes!

Boy Update:
So I found out what Mr. How to Lose a Guy in 5 (7?) Days wanted. He thought I'd help him find a job at my company since he lost his job. I'm officially banishing jobless, homeless, 38-year-old divorced men with 2-year-olds from my dating pool. (He kind of had a home, but he lived with his friend and his friend's wife. Like Dupree. And Corey Haim.) Please tell me what I was thinking!

I finally sent him a few job postings because I'm, again, a sucker for a sob story. Now he's pestering me to look up the managers for those positions and send him their contact information. Why would I do all this work for some guy who really wasn't even that nice to me? I'm not going to do it. Is that bad?

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