![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Kicking the cat down the road....
Mar. 16th, 2013 08:42 pmStet. I did not mean "kicking the can." That's the apparent job of Congress.
Rather, I had a fairly spectacular bad workday yesterday to end an almost equally sucky workweek. Of greatest relevance is after I got home from my sixth and seventh court appearances of the week and found myself at war with the middle-child cat in the house.
CAT IN THE HOUSE!
Trudged in, once again snow back blowing sideways, Eleanor out at the gym, me needing to crank out a serious afternoon of work after the week full of courtus interruptuses, I proceeded to make lunch. Michelle decided that this was HER lunch, and proceeded to divebomb the counter in front of the microwave where the sammich and soda were sitting and....
BAM!
Next thing I knew, the glass of pop was on the floor, the tumbler shattered into 3.14 billion pieces. Michelle sashayed to the cellar before I could take anything out on her, and I did my best to clean up the resultant mess while somehow protecting the sammich from her and the other four pairs of moochy eyes.
Moments later, balancing the re-filled new tumbler and the original sammich, I headed in here to check a morning's worth of mail, prepare for the afternoon of fun, and actually eat the meal prepared, and.... MEOW! CAT'S BACK IN THE HOUSE!
In a truly momentous moment of fail, I tried to set down my plate, shut the door to keep her out and shoo her with my foot. Instead, I succeeded at planting said foot smack into the door frame at shoo-ing speed. OW. This loud half-MEOW from me sent her scurrying to the cellar again, and while it hurt like hell for a few moments, I counted myself lucky that she hadn't broken yet another set of earthenware, and proceeded to have my lunch for myself and enjoy it.
The afternoon went quickly, if not as productively as I would've liked, and the evening improved things nicely, thanks to Eleanor making a lovely soup for dinner and Rifftrax making a lovely decapitation of Breaking Dawn II: The Final Sparkle. By this morning, though, things had taken a bad turn- if not Six Feet Under, at least one.
My left ankle was hurting like hell. This has happened a few times this year- perhaps an up-the-road manifestation of a gout condition I've had, on and off, since my early 30s, or maybe because of the 60 pound dog who insists on sharing the bed and converting me into a pretzel overnight. No clue which it was, but when I checked things out this morning, I found, not any sign of strain or cause of pain around the ankle, but that my second left toe had turned purple and disgusting from the previous lunchtime's kick(s).
Weird- the toe itself doesn't hurt at all, but since various bones are connected to other bones, I tend to think that it's what aggravated the ankle pain. The latter has come and gone throughout the day today- a good hour on an elliptical didn't bother it, but sitting round reading the last few chapters of a good book have seemed to. So far, I'm just Advilling my way through it, and keeping an eye on Piggy Wot Stayed Home to be sure that the purple doesn't go Gang Green on me.
Also: locking up all sources of food other than food-comma-cat, before Beyotch Kitty gets me kicking at her again:P
Rather, I had a fairly spectacular bad workday yesterday to end an almost equally sucky workweek. Of greatest relevance is after I got home from my sixth and seventh court appearances of the week and found myself at war with the middle-child cat in the house.
CAT IN THE HOUSE!
Trudged in, once again snow back blowing sideways, Eleanor out at the gym, me needing to crank out a serious afternoon of work after the week full of courtus interruptuses, I proceeded to make lunch. Michelle decided that this was HER lunch, and proceeded to divebomb the counter in front of the microwave where the sammich and soda were sitting and....
BAM!
Next thing I knew, the glass of pop was on the floor, the tumbler shattered into 3.14 billion pieces. Michelle sashayed to the cellar before I could take anything out on her, and I did my best to clean up the resultant mess while somehow protecting the sammich from her and the other four pairs of moochy eyes.
Moments later, balancing the re-filled new tumbler and the original sammich, I headed in here to check a morning's worth of mail, prepare for the afternoon of fun, and actually eat the meal prepared, and.... MEOW! CAT'S BACK IN THE HOUSE!
In a truly momentous moment of fail, I tried to set down my plate, shut the door to keep her out and shoo her with my foot. Instead, I succeeded at planting said foot smack into the door frame at shoo-ing speed. OW. This loud half-MEOW from me sent her scurrying to the cellar again, and while it hurt like hell for a few moments, I counted myself lucky that she hadn't broken yet another set of earthenware, and proceeded to have my lunch for myself and enjoy it.
The afternoon went quickly, if not as productively as I would've liked, and the evening improved things nicely, thanks to Eleanor making a lovely soup for dinner and Rifftrax making a lovely decapitation of Breaking Dawn II: The Final Sparkle. By this morning, though, things had taken a bad turn- if not Six Feet Under, at least one.
My left ankle was hurting like hell. This has happened a few times this year- perhaps an up-the-road manifestation of a gout condition I've had, on and off, since my early 30s, or maybe because of the 60 pound dog who insists on sharing the bed and converting me into a pretzel overnight. No clue which it was, but when I checked things out this morning, I found, not any sign of strain or cause of pain around the ankle, but that my second left toe had turned purple and disgusting from the previous lunchtime's kick(s).
Weird- the toe itself doesn't hurt at all, but since various bones are connected to other bones, I tend to think that it's what aggravated the ankle pain. The latter has come and gone throughout the day today- a good hour on an elliptical didn't bother it, but sitting round reading the last few chapters of a good book have seemed to. So far, I'm just Advilling my way through it, and keeping an eye on Piggy Wot Stayed Home to be sure that the purple doesn't go Gang Green on me.
Also: locking up all sources of food other than food-comma-cat, before Beyotch Kitty gets me kicking at her again:P