So this week Victor fucked up our perfect record of no covid in the house because I guess he just likes to be contrary. Luckily he’s just feeling like he has a bad flu (thank God for vaccines and boosters because I can’t imagine how bad he would be feeling without them) but he’s been banished to the bedroom, so the whole rest of the house belongs to me, Hailey and the furries, which was sort of nice for a few days because I could turn the entire living room into an arts and crafts studio while I remodeled my haunted dollhouse and no one yelled at me for gluing miniature wallpaper to the the coffee table and possibly a cat. Also, I binge watched every horror series I could find while making dozens of miniature books which I then accidentally dropped into a black hole in my couch and have been pulling out with chopsticks like it’s my very own claw-machine. In all, a very productive week.
But today felt particularly lonely so Victor and watched Boba Fett together but in different rooms and texted about (I’M NOT INCLUDING SPOILERS HERE SO YOU’RE WELCOME) and it was both nice and very, very weird and I’m really ready for covid to go away.
My service announcement to you: Please get your shots if you haven’t already and can. Also, don’t walk away from your sticky wallpaper while you’re waiting for it to get tacky because you will 100% have a cat walk through it and then leave gluey paw prints everywhere and while you’re cleaning that up another cat will just fucking FLOP onto the wallpaper and you’ll have to peel it off him and give the cat a bath in the sink while assuring your husband that the hissing and deep, mournful meowls he’s hearing are just the sound of the cats missing him dearly.