Isn't He Precious

I'd just like the world to know that my cat cries outside the door every time I go to the bathroom

Because he cares that much.

Oh no, not about me. About letting me know that there's a tiny gap in the food in his food bowl, and he can now see the bottom, and this is clearly a violation of his dignity and he will not be in any way, shape, or form alright until this situation is rectified and he can again over-eat and barf on my floor, bed, or other personal belongings (see next post).

In Which I Say Strange Things In Retaliation to Diego Vomiting on My Favorite Footwear

So, I just walked into my room, ready to take a nice nap to recover from a really awful road trip last night and a possible cold brewing in my sinuses, and what do I find? My cat has barfed on my floor. But not only has he barfed on my floor, he's vomited all up along one of my favorite boots in some disgusting, gravity defying way. The cat in question is napping contently on my bed.

So, of course, I immediately start the berating. I mean, of all the places in the house, why my room? And why did you have to defy gravity in such a boot-destroying way? Those are my favorite boots! And so on and so forth and what have you.

So then, as I'm ranting and grumbling and Diego is giving me this totally content-lovey-dovey face because I'm paying attention to him (he's like a child-- or a Kardashian-- any attention is good attention, even the negative kind), my dad walks by. He walks by right as I'm threatening, "Next time I barf, I'm going to barf on you!" 

Which, granted, would be weird enough to hear at any time in any circumstance. (I don't claim to say intelligent things when berating my cat. I mean, he's a cat. He's going to do whatever he wants no matter what I say. Plus, you know, the fact that he doesn't understand what I'm saying. That may contribute.) I don't even know if he (my dad) heard, or anything, but I immediately realized that "next time I barf, I'm going to barf of you!" is probably a really strange thing to hear out of context. I mean, i would probably stop and investigate if I heard someone say it. But then again, I've said some really weird things in my lifetime, many of the to my cat, so my dad probably wasn't all that surprised.

I'm still ticked off about my boot. You're so blacklisted, cat.

How I Came to be Eating Macaroni Salad at 3 AM

Sometimes I get really intense cravings. Lately, I've been raving Little Ceasar's pizza. Not just any pizza, Little Ceasar's. And by lately, I mean like the last two weeks. And by the last two weeks, I mean that I wake up in the morning craving it for breakfast. And then lunch. And then lunch. And then dinner. So on and so forth. I assume this means I'm lacking in something and my body is giving me this craving so I can fix this deficiency. But what nutrition I could possibly gain from a Little Ceasar's pizza is  totally beyond me.

So, two nights ago, I'm almost asleep when this specific craving hits. It's so intense that it wakes me all the way up from my dozing state. This has never happened to me before. 

So, I'm obviously not going back to sleep until I do something about this craving. I can't ignore it this time. But it's like 2 in the morning. Little Ceasar's is not available,and this causes a problem. So I start to brain storm.

I don't think any other place sells pizza at 2 AM. Plus that would be really weird, ordering pizza in the middle of the night. I don't have the ingredients to make pizza at home. Pizza is officially not an option.

But we had rigatoni the other day. That has tomato sauce in it. And pasta is still Italian and therefore pizzalike. Feeling optimistic I might appease the craving enough to at least fall back asleep, I go to the kitchen feeling optimistic.

Optimism fades, however, when I look in the fridge and find the leftover rigatoni gone. Sigh. What else might work?

Well... There's a bowl of macaroni salad. Macaroni has pasta, like rigatoni. That might work.

So I get myself a spoon and eat some macaroni salad straight out of the bowl, at 3:02 AM. But first I make myself a glass of chocolate milk because that's my usual go-to for midnight snacks or cravings. I ate, my full belly was enough to sate my craving, and I went back to bed. The end.

I never did get my Little Cesear's. But we did end up going to a pizza resturaunt the next night. I don't think that normally would have killed the uber-craving, but I got sick off of it, so it kinda put me off Issa for a while.

Currently, it's 11:30 pm a few nights later, and I'm writing this to distract myself from terrible nasuea. This has been happening a lot lately: I'll lay down to go to bed, then 20 minutes later I'll get nasueas. Tonight it's especially bad. Bad enough to take nasuea medicine. 

Anyone got any idea why this phenomenon happens? Cause I'd really like it to go away.

Aw, man, I hope I don't actually have a stomach but today. I've got the whole hot/cold clammy thing going on, which doesn't usually happen. Ugggggggh. I don't wAnt to be sick! Ugh. Oh well.

Here's to sleeping on the bathroom floor...