brit-sit

I had no Brit-sitter this week. 

Which is good, because I've been very busy working two jobs.

And which is bad because I've spent an unhealthy amount of time talking to my cats and growing extremely accustomed to their strange behavior. Trying to climb on my back while I'm sitting upright and typing, trying to climb on my lap while I'm using the.... ahem ladies room, eating a cardboard box for the hell of it, punching me in the face in the morning because they are channeling Mike Tyson, and general clingy-ness, snoring like dogs, purring all.the.time., and yip-yapping are 100% normal to me now. Sure, it was upwards of 86% normal to me before, but those monsters really beefed up their crazy and are dedicated to making me feel like a spazzy old cat lady..... and it's working.

No Brit-sitter is also bad because there is no one to stop me from having a package of bacon, 2 apples, miscellaneous Halloween candy, and a hefty portion of wine for dinner. I'm thinking Ben would not be too happy with me, since he has vocalized concerns over my odds of making it to 30............but I can rationalize just about anything. Take the above mentioned fantastic dinner for example: Meat, good. Period. Apples=fruit=good. Candy=chocolate=derived from a plant=plants=good. Wine=grapes=fruit with antioxidants=good. Throw "antioxidants" into any food-related nonsense sentence and it's like a free pass. 

Ya know what, I did have a Brit-sitter tonight by the name of Marshall's Store. Which means someone has a new pair of boots, among other things.

Ya win some and ya lose some. 

Ben's home tomorrow, and done traveling until February or something like that. Whoot whoooooot

xoxo, b