Just one more, and then that's it, okay? I promise!

Got back into Seattle last night after a short and pleasingly uneventful plane ride. Sad how a one hour delay followed by 90 minutes of shrieking babies and flustered first-time fathers talking way too loudly behind you about "binkies" and "potty" now qualify as a pleasingly uneventful plane ride. But I digress.

Came home to find Bela alive and well with only a bit of cat vomit on one of the couches. Not bad considering I can usually count on at least 3 - 5 various mini-piles of cat vomit scattered about the apartment whenever the Schmoobs and I leave for vacation. Our friend Mike must have done a good job taking care of our overly co-dependent little furball while we were gone.

However, after doing the obligatory boogie-man inspection throughout the apartment (Bathtub? Check. Closets? Check. Office? Check. Don't tell me I'm the only one that does this when I walk into an empty apartment...), I did find one very unwelcome guest...in our toilet. For my poor mother's sake, let's just say there were ...remnants... in there that were most definitely not there when we left and that were now ...hardened... and ...clinging to the sides.... and very difficult to ...scrub off... despite one very traumatizing attempt to get rid of it using the only bottle of cleaner (Windex, of all goddamned things!) I had left in the entire place.

Needless to say, I spent the remainder of the evening and well into this morning praying to the heavens that I could hold any urges that would compell me to want to set foot near that porcelain nightmare before Scott got home tonight and I could make him clean it again. Because even though I think I did a fair job (I'm not really sure since my brain blacked out the entire time I was having to clean it) at getting rid of any evidence of the disgustingness that was there before, it still feels so uncleeeeeaaaan, I don't think I'd be able to be mentally at peace with it again until he comes home and does a second go-through.

Note to self: buy an industrial-sized jug of bleach before Schmoobs comes home. And maybe some adult diapers.