Brain currently booting in Safe Mode

Teeny tiny kitten eighteen years ago. Small and gray and the cloud in Emma's universe. Then, after Emma passed, she was still small and gray, but now the cloud in Franklin's universe. Franklin passed two-and-a-half years ago and then with Sheldon, who is quite a bit younger, she was the Grand Dame of the household.

That ended this afternoon at the vet's office.

Sheldon is alone.

I am going to miss my little gray kitten, who loved to snuggle under the blankets with me and sleep between our pillows. She adopted Franklin's unintentional shoulder parrot stance after Franklin was gone, and was very cranky whenever she was dislodged before she was ready to go. She would visit the complaints department (aka the bathroom) and yowl at her water for a little while. She definitely developed a lot of quirks as she got older, including mooching for food.

Drizzle was definitely MY cat. I was her person. She would sleep in other laps, sure, but it was mine that she wanted most. I am missing her fiercely already.

It was strange sleeping in my own bed last night. It wasn't very comfortable. Which means that I'm getting used to sleeping on an air mattress. Yippee.

But it was good to get out and LARP last night. Even though it was fast time, I needed to be someone else for a few hours. Very good for the psyche, especially after the beating it's taken over the past few weeks.

My kitties are happy that we're home. I wish we could stay, but we have a bigger obligation laying drugged out in a hospital crib at Sick Kids, so it's back to Toronto today.

Hopefully we'll be home soon to stay. I'm getting tired of having to make special arrangements to be in my apartment and it's becoming quite apparent that while my sister will never say anything, it's time for us to go.

Two weeks. Maybe three. It all depends, now, on how well Shannon can be weaned off the ventilator. After that, it's all gravy.

I got jolted awake this morning by a crying baby. I roll out of bed, put on my glasses and go to see what the fuss is about. As I step around the corner to look into the crib, my foot makes contact with something cold and wet. What the...? One of the cats yakked me a present and I've just stepped in it. Great.

The baby's fine (it may have been a nightmare or even the sudden noise of a garbage truck), but now I really have to pee, so I hobble to the bathroom, careful about not putting my pukey foot on the floor and empty my bladder. Then I clean up my foot and the two puddles of yak (one on the hardwood that I stepped in and the other on the rug) before feeding the baby (who, thankfully, wasn't screaming for food).

I don't think anyone would call this an ideal morning. :P

For some reason I wasn't able to update last night...everytime I did a mouse-over on the dark blue bar just under the LJ logo, I got nada and I wasn't going to download a client just for the priviledge, so I didn't bother.

Completely Random Neat Thing but Unrelated to the Rest of the Post Update: My hoya is in bloom. I bought it at the symphony sale last year and I wasn't expecting flowers so soon. It's very fragrant and reminds me a little of home, since my mom had a ginormous one growing in the kitchen that would bloom on occasion.

Actual Update: The power was out for five hours today. Apparently, a transfer line at King and Northfield got taken out, leaving what was supposed to be only a few blocks on either side without power. Well, it was those few blocks and some pretty freaking big pockets (like all the way back to Weber and Erb). joncanuck popped by so I wouldn't die of boredom because I literally had nothing else to do.

The power's back (obviously), so now I can do computer stuff or read or watch television. Damn I miss electricity when it's not available to me.

I'm also trying to figure out why the only emotion I feel in its full spectrum is anger. It seems that everything I do turns to shit, that I can do nothing right and even small victories (like, for example, I read an entire novel yesterday. Okay, it was Terry Pratchett and not that difficult a read, but reading isn't something I do a lot of anymore) feel empty and hollow. So I feel like a disappointment (not on the public humiliation level that eventually gets laughed off and forgotten, but at the intimate level, where it sits like a scab to be picked at) to my nearest and dearest, and it gets translated into anger. Anger that I direct at the baby, my husband and the cats.

Nothing changes. I'm still in the same position treading water while everyone around me is getting on with their lives. And I'm stuck.

I had quite a large inheritance when my father died and I know I squandered a lot more of it than I should have, but I'm so tired of apologizing for to the universe for it. I'm sorry, okay? Just leave me alone.