Cat Fail and Paw-Webs

My cats have ONE job in order to contribute to the household. Just ONE.  And that job is to be the murderous, ferocious felines that they were born to be and kill any insect or spider that crosses their paths!  My cats are failures.

**Cat sees spider crawling across the floor.**

Neko Cat thought: “Hmm…what is this?….I’ll touch it…. huh….it is still moving…I think I need treats.”

Buddy Cat thought: “What is that idiot, Neko, doing? Those crawly things taste like shit.  I barfed one up earlier.  I think we need some treats.”

And then I’m left to chase after and dispose of said spider. This happened several times in the past day.  I can’t even figure out what kind of spiders these are, but they all match!  They’re all in the same family, and apparently all out to get me!

I made the mistake of google imaging American Spiders to try to figure out the type I have running rampant. This was a poor decision, it turns out, because now I have creepy-crawly feelings all over my skin. **shudders**

What’s worse is that I couldn’t find the spider that resembled my new, little house creatures. This most likely means I have a BRAND NEW, NEVER BEFORE IDENTIFIED species of spider swarming into my house.  They could potentially be DEADLY…or…they could potentially give me super powers so that I can have a 6-pack overnight and then subsequently swing around on tall buildings.  I’m not sure which, but I’m still not keen on the idea of being bitten.

Then again…okay…spiders, you can bite me if you give me super powers! But only THEN is it okay! And do it while I’m sleeping…on some part of my body where it won’t hurt much.  DON’T BITE MY CATS!!  The last thing I need is my fat furr-balls flying around the air on little paw-webs.  There’s no WAY I’d be able to hide the treats from them then!  And could you imagine the mess they would make!??  There’d be furry webs EVERYWHERE!  My place would end up looking like the cave of Shelob from LoTR!

DO YOU HEAR ME, MYSTERY ARACHNIDS??? YOU’D BETTER BE SUPER-SPIDERS OR GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!!!

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Roller Skate Limbo

Do you guys remember the whole “Junior High Skating Rink” scene? Remember all the games they’d try to get everyone to play? I wasn’t bad at roller skating, but I tended to steer clear of those. I just knew better…I knew my limitations. 
The one game that sticks out in my memory most is Limbo. You always knew who was going to win, after just the first round. It was ALWAYS that fucking girl who could do the splits on skates. Yeah…..and STILL, everyone wanted to give it a whirl and play. I never understood that. I mean, seriously? You think CROUCHING, which puts you an entire foot higher than split-girl, is going to win it?? You think you have a CHANCE?? No. You just had to line up and HOPE that the split-girl wasn’t there. (It never worked out that way, though. She was ALWAYS there.) 
Or how about the kids who didn’t KNOW HOW to skate!? They’d tip-tap-tip-tap-tip-tap…
 
TIP TAP TIP TAP TIP TIP TIP….
 
TIP TIP TIP TIP TIP……….TAP……………….TIP…………………………………….CLUNK!
 
They’d be moving one INCH an hour, just to eventually knock the fucking stick to the ground and be called out in the very beginning. To the parents who made their youngsters give it a whirl when they KNEW their kid couldn’t skate, nice job on lowering THAT self-esteem!
Then there were the kids who refused to believe they’d been tagged out. It’d be obvious to EVERYONE that this kid touched the damn stick….and the person working the game would tell them to get off the rink with a little point of the finger. That kid’s thinkin’ “Nah……I’m getting back in line….WHADDYA GONNA DO!!??” Because, what COULD they do? Throw the seven year old kid out on the street? Ha! At the end of the game, it’d be THAT kid, and split-girl….and it’d go for ten more fucking rounds, while everyone else just stands around wondering when it was going to end!

Mondayne

Until I have another story to tell, the random ramblings will ensue.——————-

Here we are again. The first Monday of work for the year. So far, it hasn’t been horrible. I slept wrong and have a kink in my neck. I had a message about low tire pressure when I got into the freezing car this morning. Then, there was no coffee made when I arrived at work. Also, my phone is refusing to go into silent mode, so I have to keep headphones plugged into it at my desk so that my text sound is constantly dinging. It’s 8:15am.
The good things that have already happened: I remembered my 2016 Kitten calendar to hang at my desk, I’ve obtained an order for Girl Scout Thin Mints, AND a coworker of mine is STILL finding glitter from when I helped booby trap his desk over a week ago. It’s now 8:16am.
And then there are the ramblings:
~Holy shit!! I totally forgot that I have 3 Monsters in the refrigerator here at work!!! This Monday just got three times BETTER!!!!!!
~I think I might’ve just found my first gray hair. I’m not positive, because when I did a double glance in the mirror, it had already run off and hidden under my regular hairs. I’m sure it realizes that as soon as I find it, I shall PLUCK IT OUT and deny its existence!!! Or perhaps the lights were playing tricks on me, and it really doesn’t exist. I’ll hope for the latter.
~I emptied my shred box today. Good news: There were no sneak-attacks from scary spiders this time!
~It is taking EVERYTHING IN ME right now to NOT grab five bags of chips and eat them all! I have to give myself pep talks:
“Leah…you have an apple. It’s plenty. You don’t need the salty goodness of chips. Do you want to lose weight or not??”
“Well..yeah, but…”
“NO BUTS!”
“I can smell them…their smell is beckoning me.”
“NO, you can’t. You don’t have the nose of a hound dog. All those chips are packaged up and sealed. You can’t smell them.”
“Have you SEEN the size of my nose?? I mean seriously! It’s possible I’m smelling those chips. Something smells like potatoes and cheese and salt and Doritos!”
“NO…you aren’t smelling anything from that snack bar. You smell someone’s lunch, and it doesn’t even SMELL like any of that! It smells like fucking Microwave Asian Zing shit! That’s the smell of MSG and despair!!”
“I could have sworn that was Lays potatoes I smelled. I really wants Lays. I WANNA GET LAYS!”
“You don’t NEED to get Lays! Forget about it.”
“Yes, I do. I need to get Lays!”
“Use a different conjugation of that word, and you MIGHT be correct!”
“……..Heh….”

————————

~I’m back at my desk now. No Lays. Just a fucking apple.

Belated Rando

I know…it’s been a long time!
But, look…I have an excuse. It isn’t a good one, but it exists.
My right hand was in a splint for several weeks after breaking my finger. I could hardly type. When I DID type, it turned out like this:
 
POh HIP[! How are Yp987? I*_(J’ Been better…my lpo9feft puand is fucp98ikekd up, tho[809ough…
 
So, you can imagine the frustrations of any attempt of writing a blog. Even MORE annoying was trying to DRAW illustrations to go with future blogs. 
But NOW, my hand is free! I can do all the regular things—writing, drawing, typing, masterbating….
And if you’re wondering how I broke my finger….Umm…. you know that klutz factor I often mention?
Add alcohol…and concrete. The End.
So since it’s been awhile, I’m going to ease back into this thing with some randomness/my thoughts throughout the day:
-I shouldn’t listen to stand-up comedy while sitting at my desk, because it results in laughter-coffee spraying from my mouth onto my computer screen. 
-I just discovered I’ve been wearing my underwear inside out all day.
-I want Macaroni and Cheese so very badly right now, but all I have are M&M’s and no money.
-Is cat-hair breathable? Whether it is or not, I’m pretty sure I get more of that in my lungs than oxygen, because my cats seem to shed forever! No matter how much I sweep, when I look at my apartment’s air filter, there’s a thickness of probably 12 inches of just hair on there! Can a furnace catch fire due to two months of cat-hair buildup? I should probably teach my cats how to use fire extinguishers.  
-I should definitely teach my cats how to use fire extinguishers….and how to use a broom.

Left Turners…

There is not much rage that can compare to what I feel inside when I’m running late, driving to work, and am stuck at an intersection longer than necessary.  I’m not talking about a stop-light that stays red for too long (though I’m not a fan of those, either).  I’m talking about stupid, illiterate people.  Well…..not even THEM….just stupid assholes.  Because, when I have to wait at a light, watch it turn green, not move even a teensy bit, and then watch it turn red…..AGAIN….because some jerk wants to turn left at the intersection WHERE IT IS ILLEGAL TO DO SO, my fury builds to such proportions that I hope bad things happen to that person.  No, not a wreck or anything completely malicious..but something such as a policeman pulling them over for being a DINGUS!! (<– This word is courtesy of @alanaaanoel……Girl, you know why! *wink*)

This is not me, typically.  I don’t just wish bad things upon people…

But that’s the thing about rage….it sneaks up on you and turns you into something else.

Rage Left

Parking Spaces

This is about how I felt when my day began:

 

 

Parking Garage Post Pic 1 Happy Me

As you can easily see, I had all the possible happy things happening in those moments.

This lasted most of the morning, but then I had a visitor at my desk.  It was our security guard from downstairs who decided to give me a head’s up about my car…..

First, let’s rewind a bit:

Awhile back, my car had been dented by someone else’s while parked in my work building’s garage.  Unfortunately, by the time I arrived to my car, not only had the damage been done, but the offender had left.  There was nothing I could do about it.

Eventually, someone mentioned to me that level 4 of the parking garage didn’t have many parkers.  Not only that, but almost everyone parked on the lines, allowing only enough room for two cars between each set of pillars (instead of three), which also allowed plenty of space between said cars so that gigantic dents in the sides of vehicles could be completely avoided.

I began parking on level 4.  At first, I stayed within the lines of the parking space, out of habit.  But then….after time….I realized that almost everyone else parked on the lines!  There was plenty of room!  IT WAS UTTER FREEDOM!!!!!!!!!!!!  Suddenly…I could do…..

ANYTHING…

Parking Garage Post Pic 2 Freedom Park

And so it was…that everything in the magic kingdom of Leah-Land was at peace and full of joy.

Then last week, as I mentioned, I had a visitor from our very kind-hearted security guard:

Parking Garage-Victor the Angel

He had come to warn me of some evil forces that had come to take away my freedom!

A certain group of females from a different floor in the building had begun to complain about people not parking in the lines, because, so they say, they couldn’t find a place to park!

Parking Garage-Evil Baishes

(This depiction is a complete guess, since I don’t know the witches’ names…)

I know what they were saying was bullshit, because I see places to park every day, even when I arrive late.  In fact, this is the EXACT view of the top floor of our parking garage:

Parking Garage- Level 5 pic

That’s level 5, and it looks like that EVERY FUCKING DAY.

Not only were the hag-beasts complaining, but they managed to compile a list.  A LIST!!!!  In other words, they spent their time walking around the garage and writing down every license plate of vehicles that were parked ON the lines.  (This includes almost EVERY car or truck, on the 4th floor.)  I have to say that someone has too much time on their hands…

Luckily, the warning given to me by the Security Guard afforded me the ability to avoid being banned from the garage.

Unfortunately, the freedom I had was ripped away.

Maybe I’ll start parking on level 5…..ON THE LINES!!!!!!

Because then I win. *grin*

Morning Schmorning!!!

Typical Morning…

3:00am

“No…..that clock has to be wrong. I think I’ve only been asleep an hour, and it’s still dark outside. It’s not 7:00am”

**Checks phone. Realizes cat has changed time on clock. Fixes time.**

3:30am

“Neko…no…you already have food. You don’t NEED water from the faucet. You have fucking ice water in your bowl. NO, CAT!”

3:45am

“Cat…stop walking on the alarm clock and forcing it to make sounds.  Stop it. FINE…more foods for you…now go away….”

**Drags ass out of bed to give cat more food. Fetches self glass of ice water, and is forced to share it with mewing cats.**

5:30am

“Why are alarms so loud?”

**Presses Snooze.**

6:00am

“But I’m having a dream!!”

**Presses snooze again.**

6:30am

“Damn it, I want to finish this dream!”

**Presses snooze for third time.**

7:00am

**Dreams of getting up and readying self for work.**

**Assumes sitting position to turn off alarm, which has been blaring for 10 minutes straight.**

“Shit! Why aren’t I dressed?? That dream wasn’t real?! I’m going to be late!”

**Darts out of bed, brushes teeth, jumps into shower.**

7:05am

**Debates on shaving while in shower—decides NO time.**

7:20am

**Awakes after falling asleep while standing in shower—exits shower.**

7:25am

**Dries hair halfway, throws on clothes, runs out door.**

7:30am

**Runs back into house for car-keys…and back out again.**

7:32am

**Runs back to house to lock the door, and back to car again.**

7:35am

**Cusses out every single driver in traffic while applying makeup using rear-view mirror.**

**Cusses out every red stoplight.**

8:10am

**Can’t get parking garage gate to open—reverses, drives, reverses, drives—until in EXACT SPOT for gate sensor to read sticker on car and OPEN.**

8:15am

**Curses slow elevator.**

8:18am

**Arrives at desk late…drinks all the coffee.**