Ah, today. A day filled with cat snuggles, dull article reading and some work. It went okay; I just seriously disagreed with the plight of the guests, then Mr. Stupid kept calling at the end of my shift and was annoying me. I think he was drinking, though; he forgot my name from one phone call to the next, and he was laughing at me when I was explaining to him how he was being stupid. He got upset when I said he should go back to his drinks, though; ah well. :P

I spent much of my shift removing my nails, which sounds really gross until you remember that I've had acrylics for the last while, and so I was peeling those off. It wasn't exactly a great deal of fun, and my nails underneath are pretty brittle, so I had to file most of them right down, but at least now I can type nicely again. The keyboard feels good under my fingertips -- nice and familiar. It'll be good to hold a pen properly again, too.

Anyhow, I was hanging out here at the computer and I heard this big crash noise, and Shadow came racing over to me to investigate. She and I headed downstairs, thinking that perhaps Digger had gotten into trouble -- nope, there he was, ensconsed in the chair (which would get him in trouble if Mom were around, but she seems to kinda let him stay there), looking quite relaxed. Shadow looked downstairs, so I headed down to see if Dad had gotten hurt or knocked something over -- nope, he was also ensconsed in a chair and he, too, wasn't sure what the noise was.

We both did a scan of the main floor, thinking perhaps that the sliding noise we'd heard was curtain rods that were stashed in the hall closet moving and then thumping against the wall. It didn't seem to fit, but it was the best explanation at the time.

Well, we found out what happened when my dad went to get ready for bed. Shadow, who is not really into jumping and likely takes the prize as the worst jumper of any of our cats (Chloe and Sookie were both quite accomplished, Digger does it well when he wants to jump, which isn't that often), had attempted to get up onto Dad's dresser. It's a pretty tall piece of furniture to begin, and although it might've made sense to do the jump from the windowsill (closer to the dresser and higher up), we think she likely tried to jump from the corner of the bed or the chest that sits in front of the bed (and is the lowest piece of furniture in there).

The doily-thing that sits underneath all of Dad's junk was pulled from the centre downwards, making a U-shape with the two ends pinned by other crap still up there. There were claw marks in the middle of it, and much of Dad's junk was now decorating the carpet. The piggy bank that he has on his dresser (an actual piggy bank, given to him by his sister sometime in the last ten or fifteen years for Christmas as part of her ongoing campaign to give him (and now my sister and I) pig items), which he keeps heavily weighted with loonies and toonies, was still up there, and was likely what saved the whole mess from coming down. Although pretty much everything that was lightweight came down. :P

*sighs* Ah well, crazy cats. :)

A quote (or an exchange, to which I was privy):
"Ow." (said quietly, more as a comment).
"Ow?" (somewhat concerned, questioning)
"I bit my arm."
[much laughing]
"You bit your arm?"
"Well, it was right there!"

Okay, so it was a "you had to be there moment", but I still had to immortalize it. :)

And this is how much of a loser I am at giving myself a manicure; I completely skipped a nail. Not that it's a big crisis, but I wanted to cover up the hideousness that is my nails 'peeled,' so I slopped (never was a truer word chosen) some nail polish on 'em. It looks... well, pretty sad, I must confess. No worries. :)

There we go, just placed bids on seasons 1-3 of Buffy on eBay. Oh, eBay; how I both love and loathe you.

Anyhow, time for me to go to bed. I just discovered a hole in my jeans, confirming my belief that I am huge and fatness and need to lose weight. *sigh*