Every morning, livejournal! I'm not even kidding! Sometimes Munch sits on the counter right in front of my face and bats at the roll until it unravels. The worst thing? I can't even get mad. He's so serious about it. It's hard work! And I keep rerolling it! Poor kittie. He's getting very frustrated with me.
In general, the problem we are having is that I don't understand the Importance of Letting Him Do What He Wants To Do. For example, the No Desk rule.
I believe part of his frustration stems from the fact that I Just Don't Get It, even when he stares at me intently for an hour. No Desk is Clearly Not On.
Mal, on the other hand, thinks he's the bee's knees. Which is, I don't know -- good? :P
AWWW. Well, mostly.
Mostly they get along. :P
Anyway, aside from the profoundness of my sadness, uh, I did spend some time yesterday -- profundity? Sadity? No. Damn -- ah, debating what to do about the entries I make about my job, patients, etc. Decided to haul out one of my old definitely-not-sockpuppet-tch! journals and turn it into the place I save for all of that. Um, it's not that I want to push that stuff away or segregate it or anything, except for the part where maybe it is, it's just that I want to have this place where I mainly am be more positive and sparkly. And yes, I know that makes no sense whatsoever, HELLO. Have we met? Hiii. :P
ANYWAY anyway, escapebeat. Feel free to friend or lurk or ignore, as needed. I'm not going to lock it, although I probably should.
Okay, onwards. Will anyone be around to beta tonight, assuming I get my shit together and knock out the last 14 words of this story? It's, ah. I don't know. I welcome all opinions about its 3manbus --ish. ness. ity. DAMN.