Smell MY feet, you rotten candy-beggars
Friday, Oct. 28, 2005 at 8:42 a.m.
Hopefully, they use a different set of hoses, too.
The big news in our lives:
Wally the miserable bastard sick kitty has pink eye, which in cats at least is caused by a herpes virus.
Here�s Wally in his happy, pre-miserable-sick-bastard days:
Here�s Wally now:
No, no, he doesn�t look like that. I�m just kidding. That�s what a newly hatched finch looks like. Isn�t it CUTE??
Anyway, we now have drops to force into Wally�s eyes which he really likes a lot. Really really. He enjoys it like most women enjoy a pelvic exam when they have a minor case of gas. Getting pooted on must be one of the one of the bigger drawbacks to being a OB/GYN. Wally�s breathing is better but we still don�t want to take him out of quarantine yet. Hubster did get the birdcage off the table and now hanging well above normal kitty height, and he placed mousetraps on the possible landings for a jumping kitty.
In other big news, Hubster has a new job. It doesn�t occur to me too often the fact that Hubster is extremely specialized in his job, and fortunately it�s the kind of specialization that puts him in high demand. It tickles me and gives me the jibblies to hear about headhunters seeking out my husband because other companies want him to work for them. So he starts next month with the Competition, doing essentially what he was doing before, but doing less of the stuff he hated doing, and getting paid a nice little chunk more. The benefits start almost right away, so I don�t have to put a lapse in my sarcoid treatment. Even better, my happy pulmonologist is a covered specialist in the health plan. Yippee Skippee, Ring Dang Doo!
Today I get to put together all the Halloween goodie bags for the work group so I get to smell bubble gum all afternoon. On the other hand, I�ve given myself carte blanche to nibble on any bits of chocolate wherein the wrapper was already open. Maybe that�s not such a good idea, being from the Tylenol Killer generation like I am. I remember I was still in a trick-or-treat mode when all the hospitals started offering to x-ray your candy, and no one was supposed to take unwrapped treats like cookies or apples. Because there was a razor blade or pins in every one, and all of us knew a kid who knew a kid who knew a kid that DIED because of them. Sigh Another great memory of childhood goes pthfffffft. Maybe I�ll just throw waterballoons at all potential trick-or-treaters. That will probably get me sued, though. I think I�ll just turn off all the lights and pretend I�m not there so no one will ring the doorbell and I get to eat the whole bag of Kit Kats all myself. Yeah.