Oh look, I have cats.

This week, I moved out of the house I was renting and moved into a roommate situation while I wait for the house I'm buying to come back on the market so I can.. y'know.. buy it. I moved the cats two days ago. The night they got here, A.'s (roommate #1) cat was hiding under the bed I'm using and came out to see what was going on. Have I mentioned that my cats are sissy bitches? Both of them took one look at this young female cat, who's bigger and outweighs them and isn't done growing, and took off. Stink was left staring around in confusion, convinced she'd seen other cats, but then not being able to find them. I hadn't seen my cats since. This morning I woke up and lo, there were my cats sleeping on the bed as though nothing had happened. They are little furry dumbasses, but I love them.

I spent last night and this morning recuperating. My hands, feet, back and lungs are dead from moving. 2 years worth of dust floating around from the furniture move, chemicals used to clean counters/floors.. yeah. Not so good. Today, the plan is to go empty the garage and haul things up to the thrift store. The VA is coming on Monday to take things away, but there's a lot more stuff than I thought.

It's retarded how done with moving I am.