Sometimes it's hard to love my cats

So I was going to relay how icky I'm feeling today, but then changed my mind. Sort of. I will briefly say that today has basically sucked, with the exception of a very delicious email from Vin that made me quiver and throb in all the right places. I've been battling a nasty cold for over a week now, and it's totally draining me. The usual suspects - sore throat, cough, blah blah blah who cares. Point is between that and thinking about St. Louis and the possibility of a big change in my life, I'm tired as hell. Heh. Just remembering another reason I'm beat today. My damned cat. Get this, 4:00 am this morning, I wake myself up coughing. I get up to go to the bathroom, and on my way, I step in something wet and squishy and none too friendly feeling to my feet. I'm stuck between being grossed out and not giving a shit because I'm still coughing and also have to pee. Let me tell ya, coughing this hard and simultaneously having to pee - not a good combination for someone that's had a kid and is half asleep. I make it to the bathroom and it dawns on me that a few hours earlier, I'd woken up to the sound of a cat hacking up a hairball in my room. (I can only take it as some kind of sign of how much they love me, but the only place the little fuckers ever barf is in my room. THANKS.) Ahh...mystery solved. I've just shuffled through cat puke. Yep...sometimes it's hard to love my cats.

On a happier note, Vin left me some porn the other night that I still haven't gotten a chance to really look through. I think I'll head home and relax and browse through the mags he left, and if there's time before the roomie gets home, I'll check out at least one of the DVD's he left. Hm. Thinking the better of that last one. I'd rather save it for when I see him. I'm sure I'll need a hand.