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So I decided I'm taking tomorrow off to get some things done that went undone last weekend and the weekend before. This way, this weekend coming up I might be more apt to get motivated to work on a couple of overdue projects, instead of attempt to play catch up and whine at my failure.


Did I mention I was cranky? Well, I thought it was worth mentioning again. I always think it's worth mentioning. And this, really, is why I find being alone preferable. I wouldn't want to listen to anyone tell me they are cranky, but I have a congenital urge to share this information myself. So I blog it.

Hopefully it doesn't do any damage out there in the cyberspacial innertubes. That's a cool word, cyberspatial. Yes, I made it up just now. That's what words are for, to communicate exactly what one is thinking or feeling. If there isn't a word to do that, I say, make it up. Language is the clay of communication. Molding it is one of my life's greatest entertainments. (Fuck the cool kids. Lulz.)

So, what was I saying? Oh, yeah. I am cranky. I'm cranky and I have some lovely pets. I took a few photos of my eldest cat, Hunter, this weekend.


Poor Hunter took years to live up to his name. In his first year he was severely injured. Regardless of our brokedom, kitty got a bionic leg. What wasn't easily sewn up was his psyche. He's been a scaredy cat ever since. Living in this less dense part of Greater Boston has been good for him. He has found his inner Hunter, he goes on walks with me with the dogs. He is even getting a little used the vacuum cleaner. Now that's a big one for him.

I'm obsessed with quality mental health, even in my pets.