Well, what a productive week it’s been my friends.

On Friday I took the kitties to the vets for their rabies injections. Now anyone who has been following my blog will know that Munch turns into one big claw as soon as she sets her eyes on the vet. However, I’ve now come to the conclusion that this has nothing to do with being frightened of needles but more the embarrassment of being put on the scales, because my Munch, bless her, is not the slimmest cat in the world…and us women don’t like to weigh ourselves with an audience do we?

The other reason I know it isn’t a fear of needles is because Munch isn’t afraid of anything. How many other cats do you know will stare down a vacuum cleaner rather than run behind the nearest sofa? Maybe she thinks it dispenses food. I don’t know.

Fearless

However, in the end, to be on the safe side, we went with a stealth attack. As she cowered in the back of the cat basket we simply took the top of it off. I guarded the front, my sister distracted her by tapping her on the head – apparantly a good distraction technique although if someone was tapping me on the head I’d probably punch them – and the vet did her stuff. Voila. Done.

The lovely Scot working hard

In other exciting news, my buddy Scot came round to decorate my flat on Saturday. Now what can I tell you about Scot? Well, firstly I can tell you that I’m not spelling his name wrong. His mother either nodded off or the pen ran out when they were doing the birth certificate but he does only have one T at the end of his name. Scot is what is known as an ‘Essex Boy’ – he’s got the gift of the gab, he’s got charm, he’s got the gold chain round his neck, he’s got a great sense of humour and an enormous smile. He also, I discovered this morning, cannot tell the time, arriving 2 hours late but I guess you can’t have everything. I tell you now though,  if I was 20 years younger and knew then what I know now this poor guy wouldn’t even make it out of my flat before committing to marriage and children. He really is one in a million. And he paints really fast. Bonus. Although in hindsight that may be because he can read my mind and wants to make a rapid exit before I finalise my evil plan.

And did I mention my sister is buying my flat? No? Well she is. Awesome.

And my final bit of news. Well, this really is the icing on the cake. The company I currently work for have agreed to take me on as a powerpoint specialist – that basically means making documents look pretty. But I can do this from the bed/balcony/bath/bar/beach in Turkey and I can choose how little or how much I work. I’ve even worked out I only need to work 3 days a month to earn enough money to live on. Sorted.

But, is it all going too well? I don’t know. I worry. What if a cat gets ill, what if I get ill, what if  my mum gets ill? What if my flat burns down before I sell it? Ok, ok, I’m getting silly now. I’m going to stop worrying and be very British and have  a cup of tea and a biscuit.

See you soon….

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