mnvnjnsn's Diary

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Perhaps the lamest entry in all the land

I could write some more on Estelle and how annoying she is. I could also write about how emotionally abusive my boss is. I could write about how very tired I am of dealing with crazy bitches.

But instead I think I'm going to wonder why my cats always follow us up to the game room, where it is always at least ten degrees hotter. They lie on the floor, melted, like we were forcing them to be there. Their eyes plead with us, "Why are we up here? can't you see we're covered in fur?!? Have you no compassion?!?"

So, when we finally decide to head back downstairs, we herd the cats with difficulty down the stairs, and they collapse on their scratching pads with a scowl.

And the minute we close the door to the game room, they are sitting by it, pleading to be let back up.

Cats! Can't live with 'em, can't ask them what the fuck they're thinking.

8:59 p.m. - 2004-07-19


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