Banjo is crouching in the corner, probably eating box elder bugs (crunchy!). Neo is curled up in my lap, tensely watching for Banjo to make one wrong move, flexing her nails and softly growling like a cartoon villian cat. I live with wild animals. And in a Disney movie. Magnito, my normal cat, is downstairs curled up on the couch with my husband, sleeping. Again. He’s become such a daddy’s boy lately. Men, pfft.

The crook of my right arm is sore where I was jabbed with a really big needle this afternoon, in the name of blood donation. For I am an upstanding citizen. And I like free cookies and free dizzy spells.

Now Banjo is sitting on the floor next to my chair, and Neo is even more pissed. She’s growling warningly and her angry tail is alternating between smacking the desk and smacking me. Nice kitty, put the tail away. And Banjo, stop being such a little instigator. Trouble makers, all of you. Now go make mama a martini.

I  can hear the tv on downstairs in the living room; Dan is watching something sportsy, probably involving a bunch of large men running into each other. On purpose. Weird. There also seems to be whistles involved.

I’m the kind of sleepy where my bones feel shaky and my skull feels full and warm. Laying down sounds nice, but I know the moment I crawl into bed my brain will explode and thoughts about the drink tickets I’m supposed to be designing and how awesome immortality would be and whether I should cut my hair and that I really like hummus will splatter all over the walls. My god, how messy that would be. Better to stay awake a bit longer. I think I’ll tell Neo that Banjo is cuter, just to mess with her, and to witness the ensuing bloodshed. Fun!