Meh...

[mousme]

So I'm meeting the person I talked about in this post in about ten minutes in Central Station. I have my copy of Don Quixote in case she's late. It's a drier read than I thought it would be.

Then I'll go home, feed all six cats, watch a few episodes of The Pretender, and collapse in a tired heap and go to bed.

I am absurdly pleased that Grimshackle did not, in fact, run away in horror the minute I stepped through the door this morning, but in fact waited a good minute and a half before running away in horror. This is progress.

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[mousme.livejournal.com]

He must. Well, he and I have a thing wherein he forgets that he likes me and runs away in screaming fits, then remembers and comes back to make nice later on, as long as no one is being too loud. :)