This morning I was sitting on the couch and beginning my glorious day of doing nothing. One of the cats jumped up and we were cuddling when suddenly I noticed he had a bug on his head. Wait...two. Wait. MOTHERFUCKER HE HAS FLEAS. I immediately did the heebie jeebie dance and then began to deconstruct my entire apartment brick by brick.
I have washed everything not nailed down, steam cleaned the carpets and furniture (including the mattress), washed the cats (twice) and then sprayed. And yet? I feel like I could be doing more. Like tracking down the source of the fleas and punching them in the face repeatedly and then making them go to work for me tomorrow so I can finally relax. I honestly have no idea how they got fleas. They are indoor cats soley, I vaccuum obsessively as I am obsessed with my vaccuum and well, I have no third option. Basically, I am mind boggled, and totally 100% skeeved out.
So that was my day. And yesterday I bought a car. Whee. Because that experience is often totally fun, not at all time consumming and just a pleasure all around. We shopped from 9AM until 7PM. I finally returned to the first place we went and bought the first car I had seen. I'm a gem. And the proud owner of a car that doesn't get roughly 2 miles to a gallon like the old SUV.
Excuse me, I have to go get everything I own out of the dryer. Including my drapes.