Stanley. He went to the vet Tuesday evening, got a steroid shot and a pain killer shot of some sort. I don't know what sort of magic was in them, but he's been better/normal ever since. He's on my lap right at this very moment, purring away. He's eating normally, too. Well, we did buy him some honey ham and roasted chicken lunchmeat, which he has enjoyed - to say the least. Talk about spoiled. Who knows what tomorrow will bring, but he's been good for four days now. One day at a time.
There's a list of probably ten things in life that really annoy the piss outta me. I don't know what all those things are at this moment, but that leads me to think that in the near future I should actually jot down this list for my own knowledge. Anyway. One of those things is a Nose Whistle. My exhusband, F-steve used to sometimes get a nose whistle on purpose, just to annoy me, and then breathe it right near my ear while I was sleeping. He also used to tuck cat tails into the crack of my ass while I was in bed, but that's another story. Yes, it is true, I wish I were kidding. I might as well finish that story. Then he'd pull the tail out, sniff it and proclaim, "The cat's tail smells like shit!". Yes. All true. I'll give you a moment to process the visual. I can't tell you how many arguments we had that included the phrase, "Stop sticking the cat's tails in my ass!!" Is that normal? Surprisingly, it's not even the cause of the label of "ex."
Anyway, that's quite a deviation from the Nose Whistle. I've been sporting a Nose Whistle, and I can't seem to get rid of it - or even quite pinpoint it. It may be a chest-rattle. It's something, and let me tell you, I'm annoying myself with it. I woke myself up out of a Nyquil-induced slumber last night (you know how hard that is to rouse out of!) with the sound of the Whistle in the room. I'm going to have to determine it's source (nose? chest? throat??) and fix it. Or kill myself. Because I hate that sound that much.
To be continued. We're getting dressed to go drink some beers and sing karaoke. Getting dressed because we enjoyed a little afternoon delight, which was more like late evening delight, took a little nap, made a couple of sandwiches and are now ready to go and do even more unproductive things with our day.
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