I’m sure there are plenty of ways to feel awake and energized in the morning, but for me, nothing compares to stepping in and then cleaning up a fresh pile of cat puke. I dunno, there’s just something about the semi-wet squish of partially-digested food between your toes and the ninja-like time management required in allowing the carpet cleaner to set – but not calcify! – before you delicately blot it and the puke remnants with a smelly rag that jazzes me in a way that coffee doesn’t.
Probably because I also spilled my coffee this morning, and if the cat puke hadn’t been enough to wake me up, certainly the irrational fear of a fried laptop and phone would have handled it.
On the plus side, I’ve determined that Kroger produces an effective carpet-cleaning product at an affordable, store-brand price. I’m sure it’s riddled with carcinogens and other earth-destroying chemicals, but at the rate The Cat is puking, I can’t clean up every mess with the lime extract bio-friendly stuff Martha Stewart made me buy. It’s a very good product, as well, but if my previous experience concerning The Cat’s puking habits are any indication, I’m in for another couple of weeks of him being a FUCKING ASSHOLE who has nothing better to do than puke twice a day until I spend $150 for the vet to palpate a turd in his intestines and recommend blood work to determine the problem.
There is no problem is what I’m saying. The Cat did this when we moved into our last place, too. He wants to assert some diabolical measure of control and he gets his rocks off by watching me crouch over a pile of his sick for ten minutes a day, and when I finally break because I can’t take any more ruined carpet, I take him to the vet, get a stomach cramp over how much I have to pay them, and without any medication or procedures or treatment, he is suddenly cured and walks around like nothing ever happened.
Like I said, he’s a fucking asshole.