Want Some Cheese with Your Whine?

Maybe it's not really whining. I don't know. It's not even the mean reds. I'm not sure if it qualifies as the blues either. I don't know what color it is, but right now York patties and International coffees are my best friends.

My cat was put down Friday. I still feel relatively numb, to be honest. Like he isn't really gone. We just put his life on pause and he'll be back when he's healthy again. Although I did almost cry in the vet's office when she stuck the needle into his arm and told us it was okay to talk to him as he went. Anything I could've thought to say, Milo already knew.

I haven't heard anything from Jim today, and I'm worried if he's okay. Things didn't sound promising when I talked to him last. We had enough chamomile to relax a shetland pony and before leaving he instructed me not to worry about him if I don't hear from him this morning. (Just saying that is a loaded omen in itself)

Add to this the start of my Red Nemesis. And all the lovely shit that comes with it.

I'm certainly in need for more chamomile, I think.