Cats are slowly adapting to each other, and I've almost stopped freaking out when Crowley, who looks like a ghost cat (seriously, he's that white), goes padding around in low light. Baby has almost forgiven Mommy, and I think I might get some snuggles tonight.
Blah. Still waiting on revision notes--getting impatient, here--so I've been knitting and crocheting. Have come up with a nifty way to make money on Etsy, too, so that might be an option for future. Hands are killing me. Talking to the rheumatologist about this on Monday.
Have edited and re-submitted a story I'm quite fond of. It's very Ray Bradbury-esque, though definitely written by me. Keeping my fingers crossed on the submission, as the market is kind of a long shot for SF this hard.
And Charlton Heston is dead.