this morning #582.

this morning, once she’d finished scrubbing the cat vomit out of the carpet again, she poured herself a cup of coffee and, after way too many unsuccessful cat calls, went scouring her home for the source of the puke. usually after a late night of bingeing & purging, simba would choose a new, even more intimate hiding spot. laundry piles. basement corners. (somehow) inside of the couch. an hour into her search, she was convinced that he’d got out somehow. then a meow emanated from the kitchen. her furry friend had taken refuge atop the fridge. when she tried to get him down, he leapt off & landed on her shoulder. her scream was a sure sign that it was time to clip his claws.