Clever Observations

It seems that the most popular costumes in San Francisco this year were:
1. Sluts of all shape, size and flavor.
2. Dudes dressed like chicks.
3. DBs (aka Douche Bags)

Normally I would have my own photos but apparently some time between my afternoon nap and my PNYC, #1 "dropped." I have an immense pressure on my bladder that would not allow me to venture more than 20 feet from the toilet. I have to say that it is a relief to not have #1 in my rib cage anymore and the heartburn seems to have lessen, (or is that because I ate all the chocolate chip cookies?)This strange pressure that I am experiencing is, well, it's making me pee every like 15 minutes - no lie. But I was ok last night, only peeing my usual 5-6 times.

Otis, the evil cat, had one of his infrequent - yet terrifying seizures this morning. He has like an epileptic bout and drools and empties his bladder wherever he happens to be, which was the couch. So the couch has been peed on YET AGAIN. I think Jon is now the only household member that has not peed on this gross couch.
There were of course blankets and pillows that were caught in Otis's spray and so there are all these urine soaked items out on the porch.
Of course my landlord shows up and asks if I can move it, because he is showing the apartment below me. While I am at the dog trying to wrangle Motu from mauling my landlord with excitement - the recently recovered Otis is jumping all over the kitchen and knocks everything on top of the refrigerator on the floor thus making me unable to get back in the house because of all the shit blocking the door.
Erstwhile the city is cleaning out the sewers? And they have this machine that is making literally, the loudest noise I have ever heard. Have I mentioned how sensitive I have been to noise lately?

Somehow in the midst of all that shit. That I swear to god was happening simultaneously. I did not, I repeat, did not have a melt down.

Aren't you proud? I know I am.