Setting: It’s Friday. I’m in my cleaning clothes, not cleaning, but doing email and reading the Internet, because that’s more fun.
As I am innocently finishing an email, when – *bang* – I hear the crash of something small-ish in the living room. Wanting to finish my email I very effectively yell at my cat Fergus from the other side of the apartment to “cut that shit out, whatever it is he’s doing”.
I continue to finish my email. Three minutes later – **!!KA-BLANG!!** – there is a HUGE crash from the living room and I jump out of my chair yelling jesusfuckingchristwhatthefuckisthatgoddamit as I run into the hallway just in time to see a bristle-brush orange tail exiting the living room at top speed and whipping through the doorway into our bedroom, claws scrabbling across the tiles in a hopeless attempt for more speed.
I walk into the living room and the first thing I see is this:
After taking that in for a second, I look up and see this:
Going on a search for the culprit I find he’s taken refuge in his ‘safe space’ and other than being scared stiff as a board, and fine-where-he-is-with-no-intention-of-coming-out-any-time-soon-thank-you, apparently unharmed:
After making sure he wasn’t bleeding internally or broken but in shock, I sent Oliver this cryptic email and then meanly took forever to get around to posting the story online, but there you go. It’s Friday after all…and Friday the 13th at that.
Add home repair to our list of things to do this weekend, honey. And you know how you said that the shelf could take a lot of weight? Well apparently we’ve found the limit: One orange cat.
Now I need to go pick up a lot of crap off the floor.