Roaming Romas

At 6am this morning, I got my drunken hungover self out of bed to get some water. Upon reaching the dark kitchen, something hit my foot. Afraid that I was about to step on the cat, I turned the light on to find a lone roma tomato sitting in the middle of the doorway on the floor.

Thankful that my stride had been such that I didn't squash and slip on the thing, I picked it up and immediately went into a cranky rage.

I have several problems with finding that tomato on the floor.

Firstly, the only way it could have gotten there is through the late-night antics of the idiot cat that lives in my house. That means that she's been on the countertops. Eeew.

Secondly, I know she didn't gently carry the tomato to where I found it, she pushed it off the counter and watched it fall to the ground. So now I know my tomato is bruised.

Thirdly, kitty paws touch the litter box like four times a god-damned day. And then she's going to touch my food? Eeew.

Fourthly, and here's the most important part, I'd like to know what in the hell she did with the OTHER roma tomato that had been on the counter. A grouchy early morning search yielded no signs of the floor-tomato's twin. Which is fantastic, because tomatoes have a habit of getting really moldy and gross really quickly once they set their minds to it.

So as the cat sits on my lap purring right now, behaving for the moment, all I want to do is turn on Kitty by Presidents of the USA.

Fuckin' cat.