Still no sign of my poor missing plant. I did, however, make a run for some chocolate, so my new office at least smells like something good.

I think I should be working at something. I'm just so dispirited I can't hardly bring myself to do anything. And the dust is about killing me. I don't think they've dusted in this building since the Kennedy administration.

On a good note, I think my sister has mostly moved out of my house. I just need to get her cats ejected and hopfully mine will stop using the living room floor as their new litterbox. If that doesn't do it, I'm not sure what my husband will do. He's ready to give the cats away. I'm getting there myself, but I'm trying to head it off. I've made sure the litterbox is clean, taken the hood off of it, given them the food they like, treated the carpet for residual nastiness, and even bought those Feliway plug-ins to make them all happy. Nothing seems to be making a difference. Anyone want a cat? A fat, fat, cat? A very sweet, but annoying as hell cat?

I wish we'd never gotten the second one now, but it's too late. It's a committment now. We need to rip out every bit of carpet in the house, but that's an expense I don't really want to take on right now, especially since I never know what's going to happen with work. They are laying off people right and left. And Tony wants to apply for a new job, albeit within the same company, but still. And he's back in school again.

I need to sell some more articles. A little extra income wouldn't be a bad thing. Sigh. Ideas are never the problem. Time is the problem. Time, as they say in Rocky Horror, is fleeting.