Seriously, don't have cats.

There was so much drama over here last night. I posted but deleted for incoherent babble--I was heat sick but feeling better after a 5 hour long cool bath and a thunderstorm that dropped the temperature. So I thought, well, I am way behind on the things I needed to get done before con.txt. I should at least go to the pharmacy and grocery store and do some cleaning tonight.

This is at midnight, mind.

I tried to leave but the cats, omg. They kept escaping--I'd catch one, the other would escape. Jack was opening doors. Sally was bolting for the 3rd floor. There was a huge enormous silverfish running around us--my least favorite bug ever, I hate them, ick. It was hilarious. All the scene needed were dueling banjos!

Eventually I just left Sally in the hall and waited until Jack forgot how much fun he was having. Back out for Sally and when I called her, she started meowing frantically--it sounded like she was both above me AND outside.

She'd fallen out the 3rd floor's open hallway window and landed on the steep, tiny little roof of the back porch. /o\

After freaking out a little, then laughing at her, I attempted to convince her that sheets would totally be a solid landing surface but she just looked at me all owl-eyed and frantic. So I got my stepstool, perched it at the very edge of the porch, clung to the post with one hand and stuck my other hand up over the edge of the roof. Sally can't resist the petting so she came over, and the second I felt fluff on my fingers, I pulled her off the edge.

Maaaaad panicked kitty claws everywhere, but at least she was down! She was a total trauma kitten--all wide eyes, racing heart, desperate cling, nervous shedding. Poor little cat. She perked right up with a snack, though. And Jack thought her new bugs-and-shingles scent was fascinating. *G*

I did eventually make it out to the stores, but did not make it home with anything I needed. Instead I...bought a lot of shampoo. Even though I have a lot of shampoo. Seriously. It's like I'm hoarding it.

If the zombie apocalypse comes tomorrow, I will have no food and no weapons but very shiny hair.

Of course, the zombie apocalypse is less likely to come tomorrow than a con is, since the con's been on the schedule for oh, two years or so now. So I may be going to the con with no clean clothes, cat-scratched arms, but very shiny hair. Just FYI!

Beffies!

You guys! The thing about con.txt that I hadn't considered! The thing that's got me ALL EXCITED!

I GET TO SEE MY BELOVED NEW JERSEY TURNPIKE AGAIN. \o/

Maybe the clerk at that one rest stop will still remember my preferences in bottled water. I can deliberately avoid having that really salty chicken at that one place. I can stop in and visit me and loveyouallwrong's corner of that one parking lot, with the picnic tables I was too wussy to stand up on.

Oh man, I can pick up a turnpike sweatshirt and fly it out the window for a while, and then sleep for weeks with that familiar smell under my pillow.

That does it. I am officially excited for the con now. See you guys (and the TURNPIKE!) tomorrow!