In some ways, our cat has always been a conscientious little beast. Oh sure, she’ll eat any potentially deadly item that isn’t nailed down; and yes, she has a tendency to playfully stuff her paw up your nose while you sleep, but by and large she’s a wonderful cat. One rather peculiar way in which she manifests her awesomeness is the way she never, ever barfs on the bed.

If this doesn’t seem like a stunning accomplishment that’s worthy of accolades, do keep in mind that this cat spends roughly 3/4 of her time on that-there bed, with a remaining percentage of time spent barfing up hairballs and kibble. You’d be well within reason to expect some overlap. But 99 times out of 100, she gets the urge to purge and immediately leaps down off the sleeping zone … and dumps it on the floor. Good kitty! Sorta. I guess.

However, last night something must’ve snuck up on her while she was napping, because I found her sitting in the middle of the bed, staring mournfully at a pile of puke at the foot of the bed (her usual spot of choice). Luckily, even in this faux pas she was spared — for she unloaded her guts on the extra blanket.

No, this is not an extra blanket for our toes. This was an extra blanket for the cat, because she loves this blanket. She would never barf it up deliberately, I’m sure of it. Even so, the blanket had been barfed upon and it could not be left in place. So I removed it. And WOE. WOE TO THE KITTY. She wouldn’t go near the bed all last night or all day today until I’d finally hauled all three loads of clean, dry towels/bathrobes/foot blankets up from the laundry room* and restored her precious blanket to its position of honor.

Then she rolled around on it for several hours. And now she behaves as if it’s been Velcroed to her nipples. If you try to relocate her in any way, she bicycle-kicks your head and then shoots you with lasers for good measure.

Poor Aric. That’s gonna leave a mark.

Anyway, my fine and lovely readers — if you are in the greater Seattle area, you should join me and the crew for a reading at the University District bookstore. There, you shall find my buddy Richelle Mead joined by Lilith Saintcrow, getting wordy together starting at 7:00 p.m. this very evening. I think Kat Richardson will also be floating about, and probably Mark Henry as well. Heck, you never know who you’ll run in to!

And now, the daily metrics, before I fling myself into the bedroom to change clothes/freshen up/nab supper before heading over to the bookstore:

Project: “The Catastrophe Box.”
New Year’s Resolution Status: Solid.
Present word count: 6719
Goal for January: Let it sit and revise it in a week or so.
Things accomplished: Full Draft Zero, well within my established wordcount perameters.





Other: In addition to this draft, I now have almost 80 pages of Draft One content for the steampunk piece. Also, I have 3 loads worth of clean towels. Go me!