Oh my.

[mad_andy]

Right, whoever is playing silly buggers with me had better stop because this is silly.

I feel pretty rough, right? Right. I've worked a long hard shift. I have a virus. But I have pets and such to look after, so after a quick chat with rockfic I do the rounds (feed and water cats, dog, ferrets, feed fish) I crash out for a bit. I've let Axl out for his business after his dinner.

This is, oh, eightish?

Now, I decide to leave the door to Axl's crate open. Not fair to pen him up after I've worked all day.

I wake up at eleven. I go downstairs. Axl has not only been on the sofa, he has shit on it. And pissed on it.

I'm too tired to do anything but clear up. I've grabbed something to eat, I'm going to take my meds and crash. I need to shower but I'm too tired. I can't find my mobile. I'm tired and I don't feel well and if I start crying I get the horrible feeling I won't be able to stop.

I--

Damn it.

Comments

[strawberrytatoo.livejournal.com]

Pets have an uncanny sense of when to shit on your furniture, and make your life difficult in every way they can. It's like they can smell weakness, heh.

Sucks that you have to work when you're sick, I guess the weekend can't come to soon, eh? :)