Damn Cats

So I spent most of yesterday cleaning my living room. I got it as clean as I can without industrial strength concoctions ritually created by a mad witch locked within the underearth in the deep down.

Basically the room is clean, but it still has that godawful pink paint flowery wallpaper. I need to do something about that. Anyway, I brought down my blankets and futon mattress and settled in for a night of Numb3rs on my HDTV.

When I woke up, it was because I felt something cold. A wet spot, just beside me on my mattress. Oh no.

I smelled it, and my fears were confirmed. Cat Piss.

I wanted to keep sleeping, I was having this dream about Al, Zoey and myself. We were renting out a boat or something. A school trip I guess. But after I realized my bed and blanket were soaked with ammonia I just wasn't going to be able to close my eyes anymore.

I sat up and sure enough there was some shit to go with the piss. It wasn't on my bed (thank god) but just about everywhere else. I can't tell you how angry I am about it. I spent at least six hours getting this room clean, only to have two cats shit eight times in the four hours I was asleep. That's four times each assuming they split the deed evenly. So I ended up spending an hour this morning cleaning everything up again, and another two washing my blanket. There isn't anything I can do about my mattress besides flip the fucker and hope for the best until I can get some pet odor cleaner to clean it out. Thing is I expect I'm going to have to do this every morning until my damn job finishes examining my urine and lets me start working so I can buy some new cat litter so they stop taking out their anger on my floor.

Furry bastards.