This is my cat Grace. Grace is suicidal.
She's five years old. Grace has, in those years, jumped out of a second story window, hung herself in the closet, stolen and eaten blood thinners, and eaten several feet of Christmas ribbon.
While we were in Prague, Grace was staying with friends of ours who have looked after her before. This time, Grace decided that life without us was not worth living. She stopped eating and drinking. Our friends didn't notice this because she has long fluffy hair, tends to hide under the bed, and because our other cat Amor
who is not suicidal, ate all the food for both of them. He got very fat.
Just before New Year's we returned. We discovered our dehydrated and starved cat. This required multiple vet visits, expensive blood tests, and liquid with an eye dropper every three hours.
700 euros and two sleepless nights later, Grace is feeling better. Yay! On New Year's Eve she started to eat on her own. She demanded cat candy.
We gave a small party on New Year's Eve. That was fun. I was very tired. Because I was very tired, friends pitched in and turned the dinner part into a pot luck. Thank you, friends.
I drank champagne. Quite a lot of champagne.
The next day, I got sick.
I've been sick ever since.
So even though I intended to start this year with all kinds of writing-related activities, film watching, and cleaning my house and getting my paperwork done, I haven't accomplished very much at all.
Our house is full of crumpled tissues. I still haven't taken the Christmas tree down. I have played a great deal of Bejeweled Blitz.
But Grace feels better. So that's good.