But The Good News Is...

One trip to the vet later, Debbi tells me that Roulette is okay. She's having a reaction to her shots from her check-up a few weeks ago. The vet says that this is common, and that the swelling should go down, but if it's still swollen in a month to bring her back in for a biopsy.

Whew! What a relief!

I was telling my cow-orker Dave today that us childfree cat-owners put our affection into our cats which other people put into their children. I guess compared to Rob Rummel-Hudson's parenting challenges this sort of thing is small potatoes, but we really do care. (My own cats are over 10 years old and I mostly try not to think too hard about that.)

I may not be writing a novel, but I am writing. I'm getting unblocked on the short story I'm working on. After noodling around with ways to present my character's situation, I finally decided it was all boring and asked myself the critical question, "After the opening scene, what's the worst possible thing that could happen to my character to move the plot along?" Bingo: A Very Bad Thing shows up in his apartment. So that should get the ball rolling.

I also need to revise my novelette from several months ago. I have two sets of comments from reviewers, many of which are useful and have suggested ways to improve the narrative. It took a while for my head to stop reeling from getting feedback, but I think I'm just about ready to work on what will hopefully be the next-to-last draft.

I want to really apply myself to writing in December. We'll see how that goes. Things never seem to go as planned in my life. At least not when I set goals more than a few days out.

But at least I have kitties.