Queezed, The Upstairs Army, I Love My Cats

I am queezed right now. Queezed with me. I am sick, anxious, my medicine is making me to where I am in a perpetual state of straving (to the point where I would almost chew off my own foot if I was not so damn sure I would have to stick it straight up someone's ass sometime soon), I do not feel cute and I am not a joy to be around. It has been over 2 weeks since my Elmhurst visit and my voice is still not back.

I am listening to my neighbors upstairs doin I don't know what. It sounds like there is an army up there that has been running around and moving shit and cooking and nailing and running water and . . . just please. For the love of God, it is 11:00 now and you have been doing this for well over 12 hours now. You need to pipe the fuck down.

I love the shit out of my cats. Really, they are so much company and they love me and want to be around me no matter how bitchy I am. The picture above is my view of my computer screen. Isis has been sleeping up there for over an hour now and she is so comfortable I don't want to move her. That leg is just hanging there in mid air. They really are the sweetest cats. I cannot wait to move their little cat butts to Texas. Isis just changed position so here is the new view:

I wish I had more to write about, but until I am well enough to leave the house, this is it.

Tomorrow is going to be a better day.