For a seckon there, a's thought a's wassa back down in the ghetto!

I am off work today owing to a braaanes deficit. Last night was really special. Neo had peed on the bed yesterday afternoon, down his own leg and actually into redcountess's breakfast cereal. (So now we know who pissed in her cornflakes.) So she exhausted herself putting that lot on to wash and tidying the kitchen.

I got home and set the rest on to wash, set up the quilt and the fan heater to dry, fed the kitties, made dinner, found the bucket the kitties had crapped in last week, cleaned it, changed their litter tray, poured vodka through the cushion the kitties had pissed on last week (drycleaning for the exceedingly cheaparsed), helped Liz have a bath and wash her hair, changed the sheets and pillow cases ... then Neo pissed on the freshly-changed bedding too. He was so out of it. Stripped the bed again, asked arkady to take Neo to the vet tomorrow if needed.

Then the carbon monoxide detector started beeping.

Turn off boiler, open bathroom window wide. CO detector keeps beeping. CO detector goes continuous. What the fuck. Assume broken CO detector, keep boiler off just in case. Switch off CO detector, shut bathroom door. Finally collapse around 1am in to-be-exceedingly-cold bedroom.

We woke up this morning alive, not dead and without pink blood and congested red faces (though rather cold), so I think we can assume the CO detector was on the blink. I've left the boiler off and made two calls to the agent to fix it NOW pls kthx, and I might make a third soon. Neo is considerably less groggy — he was active enough to paw Liz's face for food at 5:30am and to try to steal Madam's when I did feed them — so we'll hold off on the vet for now. One emergency at a time.

fuuuuuuuuuck. I claim my morning cigarette. A triple vodka with a side order of heroin wouldn't go down too badly either.

I so need a job working from home. One of my co-workers, a VME admin, has the Best Gig I've Ever Heard Of. He moved from Surrey to Weymouth, forty miles away, so resigned; the bosses went "oh shite!" (who on Earth knows VME?) and begged him to please stay on and telecommute. So he dials in four days a week and pops in one. Still gets London weighting too. Everyone is exceedingly happy with this arrangement.

Human children are supposed to be worse than this, right? Though you don't have to have their balls off, and you have a few years to worry about the local tomcats.

Update: Neo is pretty mobile today, unlike yesterday, following me around the house meowing at me. "Dad, get this thing off me!" Awww :-) And Madam and Neo keep trying to touch noses but can't with the buckets on. "Are you my brother?"

Update 2: Just spoke to a human at the agent's and they should have someone around today. And Neo just successfully used the litter tray of his own accord!

Her legs are chafed by sticky wings.

You're sooo goth you shit little bat shaped turds. And you're so indushtral their wings are bolted on.

— me to glitchdrei after she enthused about her all-black office stationery, in response to her calling me "clove boy"

This highway is done bent on killing us.

Aaand exhale ... slightly. The laptop disk is in the Mac and I am presently putting what I need to recover into a folder in /tmp (I could copy the lot, but 13 gigabytes over 10Mb Ethernet is ... not ideal) and will copy it across once that's in order. Cross fingers I will have long-awaited photos, at least some, up over the weekend.

( geeky details )

Latest domestic fuckup: the dishwasher is out of salt or something's clogged. I really think the house is taking the piss now. The kittens are using the litter tray okay, Transco's been around and given the gas the all-clear and British Gas will be around tomorrow morning to do the same for the boiler. Then tomorrow I accompany a gaggle of sxxy d3th ch1xx0rs (redcountess, arkady, quiet000001, ruthi) to B-Movie. And will regain the power of speech after my third pint. Please throw all your packs of cloves at me. I will be in dire need of them.