Sunday, January 23, 2005

Third time. Sometimes the words don't come out right. Tonight I deleted the first two entries I'd written. I mean, who cares about what I think about Desperate Housewives or going to the supermarket?

Joey Cat is watching me type this. She claims she cares about me going to the supermarket. Mama Cat walks by and her toenails click on the wood floor. The bells on her collar tinkle when she shakes her head. Puff is already in bed. Later on he'll lie on top of me and I'll have to hold his paw to keep him from kneeding me, which he does when he is happy. All weekend the cats have been clamoring for attention. They are so cute and I'm glad I have them to keep me company. A boyfriend would be nice, but the next one better like cats.

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