dom.blog

I’m not a big fan of misery and despair so will try to keep this brief. This week has not been the best for me. On Tuesday night I felt sick and – along with writing my still-brilliant Othello coursework – managed to throw up in the early hours of Wednesday morning. Fun! But, me being me, I still went to school. Lying in bed ill has never really been my favourite pastime and I’d rather not have missed another Physics double. So I sat by the window, burning up and hoping not to spread bird flu. (OK OK I did skip a tiny bit of school – ‘Enrichment’ in the afternoon. Happy now?)

So then Thursday was the after-effects ‘Aghh headache!’ day but I gulped down some Paracetamol and got on with it. And got my exam result for that terrible exam too – a B. I know what you’re thinking, that’s not so bad, but I could have got an A and I want to get an A and I will retake (sometime) and get an A unless I die of bird-flu-with-revenge first.

What about the English result, you ask? Well I don’t know. Should find out tomorrow. Which is making me all nervous and depressed because I was relatively confident until my teacher emailed with “Are you on line?” this evening. Well if it was good news she’d just put the grade in, wouldn’t she?!

Gah – I dunno. At least tomorrow is Fabio’s party (Happy Birthday btw ) so I can either drown my sorrows or celebrate an unlikely upside to an otherwise bad week. And I won’t be able to get a hangover either if I’ve already got a headache, right? Always a silver lining…

(Oh, and The Apprentice result this week was bollocks.)

When I was about one year old, Tom Cat came into our garden. He was a stray, older than a kitten, we guessed about a year or so older than me. And he didn’t seem to have an owner, so he stayed.

Tonight we had to have him put down. He’s had problems with his teeth before but on Tuesday night something happened, almost like he’d had a stroke (cats don’t really have strokes, so the vet thinks it was renal failure.) He became very still, and he wasn’t eating anything. So we took him to the vet and, as I thought might happen, he was euthanized. We were all there to watch, and I’m really glad we did.

So yes. The house is empty now, even though I can’t really believe he’s gone. (Already I’m hearing mewing from the hallway.) My strongest memory of Tom Cat is him jumping up the fridge and freezer to get to his favourite spot on the top of the kitchen cupboards, which always used to impress visitors. But I also remember when we moved house, and had to go out for months with a picnic basket to get him back from our old flat.

Tom Cat
b. Who knows?
d. 03 \ 03 \ 2006

I’ll miss you Tom, but remember your life with love and fondness