Blah, blah, blah

Blah, blah, blah. That's what all these loan documents I'm working on sound like. It's almost 5:30, and while any self-respecting lawyer should work until 7:00pm, I'm outtie in a few minutes. Who said I had any self-respect anyway? It's overrated.

Funny story I've never told on the 'ol blog. A few months ago, the Italian and I were just settling down to dinner in the living room (no, we don't eat proper meals at the table), had turned on the 7:30 showing of Scrubs, and were tucking in to that night's meal. A minute into our munching, we hear a cacophony of muffled, horrific cat screeches. The Italian and I look at one another, puzzled. Instantly, we put it together - cat, outside, another cat, attack.

The Italian jumps up and heads for the door. Halfway there, he turns around and looks at me, frozen. I look at him and plead "DO WHAT YOU HAVE TO DO."

Do what you have to do?! WTF?! Is he supposed to pick up the other cat by the tail and swing it around? Or maybe stab it with his dinner knife? Where did I pick up that dramatic, soap opera-esque phrase?

Do what you have to do, indeed. Turns out all he "had" to do was open the door. Stupid cats.