Two cats for sale, cheap.

I woke up this morning at one o'clock to the sound of the cats going insane. Why were they going insane? Because it was windy overnight, and wind is apparently one of those things that your average kitty-brain Simply Cannot Handle.

Wait.

Make that SIMPLY CANNOT HANDLE. As in, we must ricochet all over the place and scream and hiss at one another and bug the dog and generally make life hell, and when we're done with that, we'll launch ourselves onto unprotected parts of your body with claws out.

So I laid there for a few hours, unable to get back to sleep (wall wall wall wall ceiling ceiling ceiling other wall wall wall) and finally got up about four, ate some soup, and texted Attila to ask please can we reschedule today's workout for tomorrow?

Then I showered and went to the grocery store and generally did all the things that normal humans do, except not usually at six ack emma, and played around online for a while and tried to make head or tailio of this thing that the PTBs at work want me to do, and generally ignored that I felt like crap.

Then I took a nap. And woke up, still feeling like crap.

What do you do when you feel like crap? Why, you take apart your secretary and then clean house like a maniac. That's what you do. Later, perhaps after I eat something more, I'll wash down the secretary with TSP and degloss it and generally get it ready to paint. This is a wild hare that I got last week, but now I've got all the fiddly little bits and bobs and hinges and escutcheons off, and I kind of have to follow through.

Otherwise I will have nowhere to store my tax paperwork. Or the cats. I'm going to put the cats in the drawers of the secretary, then PAINT THEM SHUT.