24 April, 2006
I've had them.
At home waiting to go pick up my sick cat from the local vet. This would be the vet that I used to hire an employee of to catsit, and once came home to two angry underfed cats and a bed that had been used as a litterbox for at least 4 days. Despite the litterbox 2 feet away from the bed, which she checked daily and DID notice was empty, she did NOT notice the ACTUAL location of the excreta, which makes me question not only her intelligence and vision but her sense of smell and her malicious tendencies. This extracurricular cat activity undoubtedly happened because she had been feeding them only half of what they were supposed to be getting. I'd probably shit on a bed too. Being a genius, I had already paid her (in my defense she had watched them before without incident). So I detest, mistrust and hate this vet, but in their column they are 3 blocks away. Curses, foiled by convenience again!
I'm at home still cause I'm procrastinating carrying my 15-pound cat (and a bag of prescription food) uphill those 3 blocks towards my apartment. I would just drive my CAR, but it developed a very exciting vacuum-leak-type problem on the drive home from errands in MD last night. Yay for manual transmissions, without which I'd probably have had a far worse weekend: the car only worked above 2000ish rpm, and would die if I tried to move from a stop at lower revs. Eventually I just adopted the starting-on-a-hill trick, and trained myself out of changing gears when I normally would. A little humorous that I'd need a solution like that after paying $3.25 a gallon.
Why's the cat at the vet? Because when I came home Friday night from a pleasant evening marred only by the L'Enfant Plaza Metro stop and the Cubs' shellacking by the Cards at the new Busch Stadium, the floors were covered in pee stains and the cat (Sue) was covered in pee. He was walking around, stopping every few steps to pee again, and being just successful enough to wreak havoc on my floors/carpet, but not successful enough to count as healthy. Luckily for me I have some familiarity with cat urinary problems — the OTHER cat developed them last March while I was writing my dissertation, which was really a far worse experience. So I knew that 1) if stuff was coming out at all, it wasn't an emergency and 2) I should be thanking my lucky stars that he was peeing on easily cleaned floors and not on beds, chairs or couches. Locked him in the bathroom for the night, canceled Saturday Flickr plans to take him to the vet, and spent the day scrubbing floors while listening to the Cubs get shellacked AGAIN.
After that things got better. Well, except for the car almost breaking down on Sunday. But at least Greg Maddux continued his hot streak with a win on Sunday, and we avoided a sweep. (His ERA is 0.99. He's fricking 40 years old!)
Oh wait! No things didn't get better! Because Sunday night, when I planned to go through the week's photos and post to flickr, I sat down to discover that a bunch had somehow vanished. My workflow is to dl them off the card, go through them in a preview application and delete the ones I don't at all want, and ul the rest into the editing app. The editing app has been running slowly so I'd just been dl'ing and doing the initial cull, and the plan on Sunday was to load into the editor all at once….but the saved pics were nowhere to be found. The ones I'd deleted were safe and sound in the trash, but the ones I wanted, from last Saturday until Tuesday? poof. (Thank goodness I had done the culling on the CF card from Wednesday night onward, so everything from the blogger meetup and the Falun Gong protest was still there.)
A photo that survived, from after the blogger meetup on Wednesday. I need a word for the pictures I take by accident that are nevertheless better than the ones I take consciously.
(I think the Falun Gong thing may deserve its own post. Stay tuned.)
So that happened.
This week betta go betta.