Because You're Not Supposed to Have Cute Things

Yes, I have a new kitten named Latte (and not by me). Cute little bugger who has instantly become the enemy of shoes, anything made of paper, invisible floor monsters, her own tail, and, apparently, my allergies.

So, after trying to get past it, and washing my hands every 20 minutes, and trying not to let Latte crawl into my nose every 10 minutes (there's really nothing in there, Latte: trust me, my finger has checked in the past), the whole kitten thing might not be for me. At least, this is what I thought when I woke up at 3am last night with what felt like several pairs of socks stuffed in my lungs,
which literal act might have been blamed on the kitten except I closed my door before I went to sleep and her ninja training is still in the very early stages.

I'm giving it one more night, anyway, but I'm probably giving her back tomorrow. Which is not making me happy today. Sigh.