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Glaaargh. Today was the day of nasty parasites. First I multitasked by removing a nasty big tick from Grimilkin's shoulder while neglecting my children and burning my dinner. After dousing the tick repeatedly with rubbing alchohol, I set it on fire and then flushed it down the toilet. I don't like them. Perhaps this is like saying, 'I was angry,' after dumping someone's drink on them, then setting their car on fire and then flushing their love tokens down the loo, I don't know. After Alan got home I retired for a relaxing bath. I had just cracked my book when Grimilkin began puking up mountains of kitty kibble -maybe the antibiotic?- As I observe this over the tub, Alan calls through the door that Connor is in desperate need of the toilet. Soon the entire household is in on the fun. 'Welcome to my day,' I tell Alan as he mops up the rejected kibble complete with writhing worms. *shaking head* I don't know what to say about my day except that it really wasn't all that bad compared to yesterday.

Chapter 36 - Yesterday: In which our heroine receives an email from her despised and dasterdly sire, 'Warm Wishes' *simper*, (Yah, I've got warm wishes for you too, they're several miles down you pathological, absentee-father son of a billy goat and a slow chicken... Hmmmm.), her beloved cat shows up from a worrisome absence with a worrisome abcess just as her Dear Husband is going out the door, and her mother interrogates her, 'Is that another cat? You're going to get evicted and you'll all be out on the street!' and our girl is just trying to do the best she knows how. *sigh*