May Eve
Spot is a bad cat. She jumps into my lap, lays across my arm and I give her pets and kisses and hugs. Spot reciprocates by licking my nose then swiftly sinking her fangs into it.

After she bit my nose, I closed up the laundry room as punishment for being a bad cat. Now she's yowling because she's not getting her way and it's increasingly difficult to ignore her. If I give an inch or react to her then she wins and will continue the behavior.

Don't worry, she has fresh water and fresh kibble waiting for her but I'll be damned if I give her wet food this week.

Okay it's not that bad. I was planning on riding my bike to work for the first time on Wednesday. Around three p.m. the general manager sends a message that the head honcho is coming into the office with several people, most likely investors or people he wants to sell the company to, which means people have to dress nice and whatnot.

Dressing nice isn't a pain in the butt. It's a pain in the butt because it means that I have to postpone my morning journey taking the fruits of my exertions into consideration in order to appear presentable.