This morning I was snuggled in a cocoon under the comforter enjoying those last 20 minutes of near-sleep. You know the ones… just as you’re waking up you roll over and find that perfectly comfortable spot in the bed, the spot that eludes you all night and you get perfectly good sleep but f you could have just found THIS spot… you could have had the kind of sleep that lets you wake up fully refreshed with sparkling non-puffy eyes and adorable bed-head (as opposed to crazy Unabomber bed-head, three-week bender eyeballs and sleep wrinkles).

So as I’m snuggled into the SPOT listening to that adorably bad kitten pounce around on the silk duvet (WORST. IDEA. EVER. btw…) and play with the air, I suddenly feel a strange warming sensation on my hip. And apparently my near-sleep was a little closer to actual sleep than awake because it must have taken me a full 45 seconds to realize that the ADORABLY bad and PERFECTLY LITTER BOX TRAINED asshole cat had just PISSED ON MY BED. On the aforementioned and ill-advised silk duvet. ON MY HIP.

My cat. She peed on me. More pee than I can produce after drinking six Captain Morgan and ginger ales while floating in a pool in Mexico. (Yes… still to come. But I have PICTURES too and I have not yet put Photoshop on this computer because it is living in a bowl in the middle of my dining room table along with three empty key chains, two cat toys and a partridge in a pear tree and so all I have are gargantuan 3 meg pictures (on the memory card that has been riding around in my billfold since we got back) that must first be shrunken down and perhaps adjusted for poorly lit conditions caused by alcohol consumption.)

I’m not really certain what noise I made when the whole situation clicked together but it brought Patrick a-runnin’. Riddle me this… Have you ever tried to remove a comforter from inside a duvet while a) not fully awake b)dancing around because you are squicked out at being covered in CAT URINE c)being helped by someone who isn’t schooled in the architecture involved in the duvet cover and d)DID I MENTION THE CAT PEE?

e) all of the above.

Obviously this meant I was going to the cleaners this morning. But if this will give you some indication of my priorities (and the washability of my summer dresses), I have a dermatologist, someone to do my nails, a vet (who will also be getting a call from me this morning because google seems to think Lilly may be trying to tell me she doesn’t feel good and not that she’s just an asshole) an aesthetician and a hair stylist. What I do NOT have are a doctor, a gynecologist, a dentist and a dry cleaner.

One of those things has now been remedied.

And the super friendly barista at Starbucks is now cursing the day he ever asked me how my morning was while he fixed me that triple shot…

That I TOTALLY earned.