Greetings from the Omnigraphic Blogopticon. On view are vile sticky things dragged from the attic, snarky commentary on the world at large, and all-encompassing ennui. All that and a weird rubbery smell. A horrible time will be had by all.

Monday, March 30, 2009

Something Resembling Normal

The maladjusted orange beast must be getting back to whatever normal is because this morning he yanked a chunk off my spider plant.

Yesterday he sat on the rug and stared at me most of the day, drooling, and wouldn't eat more than a couple bites, then he'd go sit in the closet for a while. Then he'd stand next to me on the sofa and stare, then back to the closet.

Today he's back to his usual fussing and chattering and grumbling (the cat does not shut up), plus he's eaten more this morning than he had all day yesterday. Very little drooling, which is great because it was getting to be a bit disgusting. He's even starting to look a bit cleaner.

He's spent most of the morning wandering around the apartment talking to me, himself, or his imaginary friends--which is pretty much normal around here. He's part Siamese and part not right so I have a constant running commentary from him all day, every day. And he's freakin' loud on top of that.

You wouldn't think a scrawny little five pound cat could make so much noise, but try and ignore him when he's bored and the boy will rattle the windows. I'm sure the neighbors think I'm pounding the crap out of him. It's like those old cartoons where somebody uses a cat as a police siren by cranking his tail.