Pussy Galore!

Well by now most of you have probably seen or hear of (Captain/Princess) Chunk, and if not, well, here she -- I mean HE -- is in all his glory:




The animal shelter that took him in (in my home county in South Jersey!) first thought he was a boy and named him Captain Chunk. Then they thought she was a girl so they renamed her Princess Chunk. But when she appeared on Regis and Kelly yesterday, a vet determined this 44-pound hunk of pure cathood was, after all a boy.

My Rocky was a little upset that I'd stuck pictures of Chunk on my cubicle walls. He's a bit depressed that he hasn't achieved similar glory and fame. He's ONLY 22 pounds! So I gave him lots of cuddle time when I got home last night.

I have nothing "real" to write about. I'm pretty dry this week, and I don't know why. I had a good therapy session last night where we talked about my creative block -- I haven't been playing my guitar, or working on mosaics, or writing very much. My plans for home improvement projects are pretty much at a standstill, too. Doing lots of reading and not enough DOING.

Work isn't too bad; my new boss seems OK (after two weeks; time will tell); the higher-up boss is still driving us all crazy, making TONS of copy changes at blueline stage (aka, the very last minute) and CLAIMING she didn't get to read the issue earlier. I call BULLSHIT. She had the issue when she was supposed to have the issue, plenty of time to read it. We, the lowerlings, are simply planning to get the new boss on our sides so similar nonsense will not happen in the future. It may or may not work. Oh, look, here's my boss on the internet.