Wholly Crap

...was the state of my apartment upon my arrival home after a really busy workday. Jesper must have eaten some of Kiska's food; his digestive system wasn't ready for it. He made it to the litter box, but he dragged his tail through, ahem, his product, and then wielded his tail like a foul paintbrush... All. Over. The apartment. And I mean all over.

It took me about 45 minutes to disinfect the f**king walls, and then I started on the floors. I thanked the Supreme Being with utmost sincerity for the fact that he hadn't jumped on my bed. And, after finally getting everything moderately cleaned up, I collapsed into bed, exhausted... Just in time to see Jesper projectile vomit a hairball all over the custom hooked thick-pile wool rug in my living room. He did it six times.

Kiska, meanwhile, remained perched on top of the kitchen cabinets like the princess she is, imperiously observing the chaos. I assumed the floor was much too dirty for her dainty kitty paws. I chopped the end of Jesper's tail off (the fuzz only, I assure you), tried my best to clean up the new messes, and made it to dance about 30 minutes late (RH WAS THERE! YAAAY!). When I got home about 45 minutes ago, I broke out the vinegar, and washed every nook and cranny of every inch of hardwood floor in the apartment, on hands and knees, with a rag. I then triumphantly scrubbed the linoleum kitchen floor with Mr. Clean, and washed the walls again, and now I am self-righteous, sweaty, thoroughly domestic, and supremely satisfied.