Sometimes, I wish I were not quite so clean.

It would, you know, help to live with other college-age people if I didn't hate to see a stove with grease on it, or dishes left out, or crumbs on the counter, or bugs in the kitchen. But I do. So I clean. And gripe. And clean. And, you know, I don't mind the cleaning so much (unless it's something really disgusting), I just don't want it to be always my responsibility.

But, in other news, the weather is cool enough to justify bringing out my down comforter at least for a little while (once it gets hot enough it's going to the dry cleaner's to get rid of mystery spot that appeared when the roommate decided to borrow it for a guest when I was out of town) and I decided that my sleepless nights were probably due to a lack of a real pillow, so my bed is once again a downy wonderland. This fact has not escaped the feline residents of apartment 2S. Photo evidence:

Wormy settles in for a nap:

Worm at the top, Sphinx at the bottom:

Again: Worm at the left, Sphinx at the right. They were there ALL DAY.

And, yes, we constantly suffer from this problem in this apartment. Kitties! The best of roommates!

So now I'm going to go knit. G'night.