It's in the forties outside, and cloudy and gray. It's a perfect day to curl up and read something that doesn't have anything to do with school, or to sit here and write; but I promised myself that today would be a cleaning day. And I really do have to clean. I haven't cleaned thoroughly in months, and right now the place is an absolute pit. Though, I'm wondering what good it will do, because the main reason it's such a pit is because of Nibblet.

She's going on five months old. She's not an adoreable little baby kitty anymore, she's a smallish, super high-strung, destructive cat. Man, does she ever piss me off. I just noticed a lamp lying on the floor across the room. I never heard it fall, so she must have knocked that off while I slept. I can't tell from here whether it's broken. She can get up on all of the top shelves now, so nothing is safe. I'll clean, but I'm sure she'll have the place all torn up again in the space of a day.

I just realized that I've never raised a pet from infancy before. Looking back, the youngest I've ever gotten a pet was eight months old. That was my black lab, Nicki. There were some chewing issues, but other than that, she was already pretty well behaved. At least, as far as I remember. I was only 10 when I got her, so it's not like I had to be responsible for if she wasn't. Man, I miss Nicki. Excuse me. I have something in my eye ...

Anyway. I love my kitten, and I'm sure she'll turn out to be a great cat, but I'll be so, SO happy when she grows past this destruct-o-rama phase. I had no idea that a single little furball could be such a pain in the ass. She does have her moments, though. Though I'm sure Vanilla would beg to differ.

As long as I'm on about my pets (don't you just love when bloggers ramble on about their pets?), Fizzgigg went to the groomer for the first time yesterday, and came back looking very much like a poodle. I actually think he looks cutest when he's all shaggy and unkempt and bears some actual resemblance to the original Fizzgigg. Now he looks like he should be called Pierre or something sufficiently snooty and frou-frou. The poodle cut just doesn't suit his personality. Because despite being a poodle, he really is a very cool little dog. At least she gave him a puppy cut and not one of those God-awful pompon hairdos. It's starting to grow on me, though. He's actually pretty cute. Though he'll be cuter when the hair on his face grows back in and he starts to look all shaggy again.

All righty. I'm off to clean, then to beta other people's fic, then maybe I'll work on some of my own. I refuse to do any schoolwork today. I'm in desperate need of a break from that, even though I suppose I really should sieze the opportunity to get ahead so I won't have to cram again like I did this past week. I'm pretty sure I did well on yesterday's Abnormal Psych test, by the way. Still don't know how I did on the Research Methods test, but I have a bad feeling about that one, especially since it counts for almost half of my grade in that class. I'm not going to worry about it today, though.