There is way too much fucking "weigh you down" sadness this week.
Fires in Texas and all the 9/11 stuff.
I made the mistake of turning on NPR earlier. Christ, one depressing angst fest after another. Tragedy porn at it's finest.
Enough to make this depressed, broke and hormonal woman want to end it all with a butter knife.
To make us all feel better I give you a picture of Angus the Stray Who Lives Under My House Because He Sprays. That planter never got filled this year with flowers and what not because he decided it made a very fine cat bed. I have gone outside and found him sleeping in it on his back with just his kitty paws trust in the air.
It is too laugh.