verbicide | oops

In all my hysterical squeeing--I think I may have not made it clear that Brutus is Jeff's cat, not mine. I definitely am not ready to have another cat and I still feel like I never will--not one of my own. I babble about Brutus whenever I petsit, but those times are few and far between. Jeff moves in tonight and he just brought Brutus over a day early. I've been madly in love with Brutus since the day I met him, so I'm giddy to have him living here.

Snippet from an earlier conversation:

Jeff: So, if it's okay, I think I'll work at the house tonight until 8 and then head over to spend the night...and start living there. That okay?
Me: Nnnmm. I don't know. I already have Brutus. And we're really happy together. Not sure we need a third wheel.
Jeff: Dammit. I knew I should have moved us in at the same time.
Me: I suppose you can come, too. But try not to get in our way.
Jeff: I'm never going to be able to move out, am I?
Me: No, no. You can move out any time you like.
Jeff: *pwned*

I went to Mud Bay and got Brute a water fountain and some Greenies and this scratching post that the lady hosed with catnip. It was awesome to come home and see Brutus' reaction. I'd run to the bathroom and when I came out, he was waiting for me in the hallway. He led me over and proceeded to do somersaults of stoned joy around it.

In other news, it's fucking hot! I spent the day unpacking Jeff's kitchen stuff. Most of it is integrated, but some of it--like canning jars--will go into hall or condo storage. And then I unpacked all of his books and CDs. I went to Home Depot, got an extra closet dowel, and now his clothes are hanging, too. Yay!

Making channa masala for dinner. Sarah's on her way over. And if I have energy, I'll make that peach pudding cake I buoght the ingredients for!