Utter Darkness and a Strung-Out Sugar

So homegirl Sugar had to go back to the vet, yesterday, for some dental work. Homegirl now kinda looks like homeless girl, because she had to get three teeth removed!

Sugar is pissed. Pissed at the world, and pretty much everyone.

But she doesn't know this, yet, because Sugar is on pain medication. And Sugar reacts to hard-core pain meds as much as anyone would. She's enjoying the hell out of them! Her pupils are dilated, she's rolling around on the floor in ecstasy, she wants her cuddling rough. Apparently kitty pain meds are similar to kitty coke.

Meanwhile I get the lovely task of sticking a syringe in her mouth twice a day, to keep the high going, and then I get to start brushing her teeth every day. For the rest of her life.

I told the vet I valued my fingers, and he laughed like I was joking.

Seriously, though, dude. Typing is going to suck if Sugar has bitten most of my fingertips off.

So the first part of my first day on the job involved taking Sugar to the vet, Very Early.

The second part involved stressing about serious traffic jams and Sugar's reaction to anesthesia.

The third part involved sitting on the phone for half an hour, listening to the computer help desks' wait music, because my computer wouldn't dock correctly.

The fourth part involved complete and utter blackness, in which I perhaps squealed just a little bit. Fortunately, I found my cell phone on my desk, and with its display light, managed to get myself out into the hall where I could actually see, due to the fact that the offices on the OUTSIDE of the hall actually have windows.

The fifth part involved hanging out in said hallways and offices with windows, waiting for the P.A. announcement that said we were having a power outage (no shit, huh?) and that we could expect it to be at least another two to four hours before the lights came back on.

The sixth part involved me gathering up the (still not functioning) computer by the light of my trusty cell phone display, and hiking down 11 flights of stairs.

The seventh part involved sitting on the phone for ANOTHER half hour with the computer help desk, once I got home, trying to establish a network connection.

The rest of my day was a blur of spreadsheets and cracked out kitties. Tatum didn't recognize Sugar when we brought her home, and he was scared of the wide-eyed crack kitty, so he retrated into a corner and hissed. Sugar was so high she didn't really notice, but she did think it was funny that the normally very aggressive and rough-and-tumble boy was acting so skittish. So she chased him around the house, looking kind of surprised (but who can really tell if it was surprise or just drugs with such dilated pupils) that he would run away. So she spent the rest of the evening asserting her newfound dominance and rolling on the floor with pleasure. Maybe having a few teeth out isn't all bad.