omfg

morning bad. very bad. ugh. can't remember exactly who judy is or why i care to do this to myself in her honor. gah gah. almost ignored ellie's wakeup call, because the phone was rining and it wasn't even 8am.

god, is pouring outside. god traffic maps look like they're 'bleeding' with 'heavy traffic warnings' ugh ugh. want to go back to bed *whine* will get there, they'll still b stuck in luggage claim and i'll have spin around dizzily forEVER in fucking airport return hell. aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.

as am going in my pajamas, there is no frigging point to being up this early. could have slept another 4 minutes. wah.

want to find person who decided day should start in morning and beat the shit out of him. yes, fuck you, of course it was a man. any woman would sensibly have started the day at 11:30, like a normal person.

what was it Shakespeare said in much ado? 'friendship is constant in all other things, save the office and affairs of picking people up super early from the aiport?'

yes, so perhaps it wasn't smart to go to bed at 3. but frigging 9pm is when the magic all starts.

god am too old to try to exist on 5 hours sleep anymore. need like 18 to be properly human. though hate sleep and hate having to have to go to bed at night, though obviously like sleeping in morning or something. lafjgh.

huh

A hell of a way to get a British accent...

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/health/3235934.stm

mrh

I hadn't eaten all day, wasn't able to go back to sleep after my early morning, and was trying to throw something together to eat. Hobbes frantically kept meowing and hurling himself at my legs, indicating that he was starving to death and hadn't had a bite to eat since the last ice age.

He gets a quarter can of wet food each night. Sometimes he starts to remind of me this fact at 10am. So I impatiently yelled at him and tossed him out of the kitchen. It was maddening, but to be fair to him, it is usually when I feed him. He kept trying. I took my plate back to the sink, he was there. I just ignored him, lost in my own thoughts. Finally, fed, and somewhat relaxed, I remembered him. He was quietly curled up on the bed, having given up on me for the night.

I went over to apologize, and that's the amazing thing about him. No hard feelings. He purred and head butted me. He didn't even beg for food. He just purred and was exceptionally sweet. I felt like a complete asshole.

I went to the kitchen, got his food ready. He eventually heard and happily hurried over.

All is forgiven. I always feel like such a heel after something like this. I really am lucky to have him.

So yeah. This is just a post saying: I love my cat, he is so cool. He is my best friend. Me + Hobbes= 4 Ever.