Today I have mostly been having dark and disturbing thoughts. Actually, it started last night while Alex was working, with "what if Alex doesn't come home because he's had a car accident and he's DEAD?? What would I do? What?? What???". Irrational. Silly. No need.

This trend of morbid/unnecessary thinking has continued today with the following:
-- What if I die while I'm giving birth?
-- While watching the advert for (Butlins, maybe?) with all the kids running down the beach and into the sea, "there's no lifeguard there, some of those kids are bound to drown and DIE"...
-- Whilst eating pizza: "what if I choked now?"
-- Whilst watching a labour and delivery programme: "what happens if I go into labour and there's nobody around and it progresses really quickly and I have to deliver the baby by myself?"
-- Whilst washing my face: "what if I washed the soap off and when I opened my eyes and looked in the mirror I SAW A PERSON STANDING BEHIND ME??"
-- Randomly for no reason: "what if the gas fire suddenly exploded?"

Hmm. It could be sleep deprivation. Or it could be the onset of insanity. I'll get back to you in a couple of weeks and let you know how we're getting on.

BUGGERY HELL.

I'm having brain problems again. I know there's stuff in there that wants to come out...but unfortunately it seems the pregnancy monsters have stolen the key to my memory and are currently running around, throwing it to each other and giggling. Damn them. It doesn't help that I'm being headbutt-nagged by Flea, either. Cute, but distracting.

OVERLY HORMONAL. MADNESS AGAIN.

It's another list! Today I have cried or nearly cried because:
-- I don't have any money
-- I love Alex
-- I was bored
-- I watched a tv show in which women gave birth
-- There wasn't any food in the house that I wanted.

Oh God. I am officially turning into a mental fluffy minded woman. Get me my pink cardigan and alice band, I think I've qualified. Although, the random tears are balanced out by equally random outbursts of manic energy, insane rage or joyous skipping about and singing...it's not really madness, just a heightened version of sanity. Does that make sense? I don't care if you think it does or not - it sounds good. To me.

ALEX'S VERY BAD HUMOUR.

Alex: "Flea looked much better when she had her cone on*"
Kate: "It was sad, poor kitten"
Alex: "Let's put her cone back on"
Kate: "Leave my cat alone"
Alex: "But she can be 'Cone-on the Barbaricat'."

This was right at the start of the day. It didn't get any better.

* Cat cone: from when we had the cats 'done'. Carrott didn't mind having his testicles popped at all. He was mildly interested in the stitches, but was easily distracted with cat crunchies and soon forgot all about it (although he does have a disturbingly high pitched meow now...same effect as the eunuchs who are eunuchified before puberty, I would guess). Flea, however, was not happy. We got her home and let her out of the cat box, giggled while she lurched around like a drunken kitten (at one point falling over with her face in the cat food...not really funny, I know...but it kind of was).

Then she sobered up and started biting at her stitches. So back to the vets to have a collar fitted. They put a lampshade on her head. This displeased Flea. She was not amused.

After this she seemed to be getting on fine, so we locked her in the spare room for the night (as Carrott was FUCKING TERRIFIED of her with her new cone-head) and went to bed.

When we got up in the morning we found that Flea had pulled the cone off and removed one of her stitches. Disgusting and worrying. So back to the vets, who STAPLED MY KITTEN SHUT.

That night we kept Flea in our bedroom with us. She thought this was great fun and decided to pounce on our feet through the duvet. Even when we weren't moving. FOR FOUR HOURS. So eventually, at the end of our patience, we double knotted the cone onto her head and put her back in the spare room.

When we got up in the morning, Flea was happy. Very happy. Rolling about on the floor happy. Why? She'd pulled out the staple and ALL of the stitches (including the internal ones). There was a gaping hole in the side of my cat. She was very very pleased about this.

So back to the vets again (all the while trying to stop Flea from lying down on her side, which would have allowed all her insides to become her outsides).

Worrying thought - if we have this much trouble with cats, what are we going to be like with a child?

Another worrying thought...this entry was mostly dominated by a story about the cats. My cat-lady/Miss Havisham complex is alive and well, it seems.

Right, I'm off to lie in bed and read a book. Alex is out working and won't be back until around 1am, so I'm all alone...it's so sad.

TIME FLIES WHEN YOU'RE HAVING FUN...

OH, WON'T SOMEBODY PLEASE HUG ME...?


give Kate-Lee more *HUGS*Get hugs of your own