I stopped at Wal-Mart on my way into work this morning (because my failing to visit Wal-Mart at least twice a week is the first sign of the apocalypse) to purchase gummie savers and happened upon Pop Goes the Weasel by James Patterson. Which I purchased. Because the second sign of the apocalypse would be my failing to make a spur-of-the-moment book purchase when I have, easily, fourty books and twenty magazines at home that need reading.

So as I was leaving, I happened to glance over as I went through the little entryway, where people post "missing" and "free kittens to a good home" signs, and saw a sign advertising kittens for $5 each. The sign included a picture of the kittens, and ohhhhhhhhhhh were they cute. Boy, do I want another kitten something awful. That cruel bastard I married won’t let me get one, though. I want an orange tabby soooo bad; my kitten Charlie when I was 7 was an orange tabby, and a bigger momma’s boy you’ve never seen. Fred just shakes his head and says "We have 4 cats! We don’t need a fifth!" But as I see it, more than 2 cats makes you a weird cat person. Am I wrong? Is it three, or some incredible number like ten? Where is the "weird cat people" line drawn? I suspect we’ve already crossed it. For crying out loud, what difference is ONE more cat going to make? One wittle bitty kitten? Fred should let me get a kitten, don’t you think?

I was sitting at my desk this afternoon, about to eat lunch, when a crazy thought popped into my head. "I haven’t read Pamie in a while. I wonder what she’s been up to?" So I clicked on over to Squishy and began reading.

I went to see "American Beauty" this afternoon, Friday being my "skulk out of work early" day. For the most part, I agree with Patrick‘s assessment of the movie (he’s got a longer review somewhere, but I’m too lazy to look for it). I don’t resent the time or the money spent on this movie, though, mostly because now I’ll know what everyone’s talking about when they discuss this scene or that. I found Kevin Spacey’s character unequivocally pathetic, in the way that I find every older man who is "drawn" to a girl half his age pathetic and just plain lame.

And that’s all I have to say ’bout that.

After the movie, I had to get groceries — for the first time in 3 months, poor me! — and by the time I got home it was close to 5:00. I put the groceries away, chatted with Fred a while, and then called in the Domino’s pizza order.

So what are my plans for the evening? Web surfing and laundry.

Don’t pass out from the excitement, y’all 🙂