I wantz to haz it...

You know how babies will get so tired they can't go to sleep? They're sleepy and crying, but they work themselves into these fits where they're angry that they're tired, and because they're angry and throwing the tantrum they can't relax enough to go to sleep. That's kind of where I am right now.

Freddy's out of town, visiting his buddies in CA. So I'm home alone, which I'm sure is adding to the blahness. I do have the cats for company, which is nice... except when they're howling at each other because Gus wants to play and nobody else does. But that's another post.

I'm being overly-sensitive and overly-defensive online. I feel everything is a personal attack, to me personally. In a way, reproductive rights is an issue that affects me directly, and attacking my reproductive rights is an attack on my person, so I'm not being paranoid... but I should stop reading blogs and the news. There's nothing I can do about it now, so I need to remove that toxicity from my life. Ignorance is sanity.

I made a donation to Planned Parenthood yesterday. Among all the other donation information, they asked for my political affiliation. Usually, I check Democrat - no, I do not agree with Democrats on every issue, but I do agree with them on my two highest priorities and that's the party whose candidates have a chance to win in our two-party system. Yesterday, however, I checked Socialist.

I'm so sick of the state of affairs, I don't even want to pretend to be civilized anymore. If Anarchist had been an option, I might have checked that. But I knew Socialist would make the GOP mad enough (yes, because they DO care about the box I check on the form), so I went with that.

The cat door just swung. That might have been Gus, remembering how to use the cat door to escape to the magical realm beyond The Kitchen. I should go find him... he's too little to be out on his own. And he's not very bright, so he won't remember how the door works by the time he decides he wants to come back to the safety and comfort of The Kitchen.

After I retrieve him, I'm going to bed. Maybe he'll be kind enough to curl up next to me and purr me to sleep (and purrvana)... instead of jumping about my head and licking the tip of my nose with his scratchy, stinky kitten tongue.