and then my hand started bleeding

So this is a story about the stupid cat. You may remember her. She makes an appearance once in a while, just because she's so weird. Someday I'll have to tell you about how we got her, because it's kind of a funny story, but not for a while, because this isn't a blog about my cat (if you're looking for one of "those" blogs, you might have to go elsewhere).

ANYWAY.

She's been pretty boring lately. She only went for my Achilles twice yesterday, down from the normal average of 5 attacks per day.
We're chilling on the couch last night, yoga pants and an old hoodie (me, not her), and she's actually curled up in my arms, dozing. We'd been there for about ten minutes, peacefully, she was letting me scratch behind her ears and all that. And I remember thinking to myself,

"Wow. I think we might actually be friends!"

And right as I thought that, she opened her eyes - wide - looked right at me, and took a swipe at my right hand. Claws out.

Commence bleeding.

And then she picked herself up daintily, walked across the couch to my mother, laid down on her lap, and proceeded to sleep soundly for the next two hours. True story.

None of this is terribly important, but it's all to say that I was supposed to go to Conneticut this weekend to see my girls from Scotland, who I only get to see twice a year or so, but the weather had other ideas and now there's a storm warning for the next 24 hours.

And like any normal parents, mine have adamantly stated that I will not be driving 5 hours north into a "red zone" because they want their daughter alive, so I will be spending the weekend sulking.

To which I say, screw you, weather. And to the cat, too. Screw you, cat.

The end.