Dsc00673 If you could send some generic happy thoughts my way, I’d appreciate it. Not because of the health stuff (I expect to hear that I’m going to need to have my gallbladder out, and I am unconcerned to the point of “Oh, is there a gallbladder issue? Oh, right. I forgot.”), but something else I’m not ready to talk about. DON’T YOU HATE IT WHEN A JOURNALER SAYS THAT? By the end of the week I’ll spill all, one way or the other. But if a million Bitchypoo readers sent a million generic good thoughts this way, it can only be a good thing, right? Right. (NO I’m not pregnant, not trying to get pregnant, never hoping or trying to get pregnant, and it’s got nothing to do with any kind of pregnancy in the Bitchypoo sphere of family, Bonnie, so don’t get excited.) (Also, no new cats or fosters in the near future. Once the gallbladder’s out, or they identify whatever exotic new disease I have and fix it, there might be fosters around the corner, but that’s not what the good thoughts are for.) Okay. See you tomorrow.]]>