the dangers of going potty in the valkyrie’s house

So anyway, the new job blows just a little because there’s absolutely no time to do all the activities I used to do at the old job; i.e. knitting and blogging and web surfing and playing games, although I did figure out that I can just get around the “blocked” sites by clicking the button that says “I need to go to this site for research”.  Seriously.  However, when I go to the blocked sites by clicking the magic button it does tend to time out, although it would give me perhaps just enough time to dash off a tweet or drop a cut-and-paste entry here, but I think I better stick to doing things liek that on my lunch hour.

Anyway, I’m doing okay with the new job, but there’s a tremendous learning curve and I occasionally feel like I was simply thrown to the wolves.  Say what you will about my previous supervisor, she wouldn’t have let me on the phone free and wild after 5 days.  Perhaps after five months, but not five days.  On the other hand, being thrown to the wolves makes one sink or swim, or at least mix her metaphors until someone (probably the Hubster) smacks her on the back of the head.  Speaking of Hubster:

Conversation with Hubster:

Valkyrie:  (who is in the bathroom) OW!  OW OW OW OW!  OW OW!

Hubster:  Um . . . do you need help?


Wally, the large behemoth kitty of the household, likes to follow us into the hall bathroom, where he will jump up on the counter and headbutt us as we sit on the toilet.  Not that both of us (that is, Hubster and I) are ever sitting on the toilet at the same time.  That is extremely difficult.  Not impossible, just difficult.

So anyway, I had just come home and had grabbed the mail, which included a new knitting magazine, and I hied myself to the hall bathroom for a small restitutional.  I had the knitting magaziner on the counter, and when Wally tried to jump up on the counter, he slipped off, crashed into me, and proceed to wrap himself around my torso and attempt to grab hold of something.  Unfortunately, I was wearing a slippery knit blouse, and Wally could get no purchase without driving all of his claws through my blouse and into my flesh, which prompted my yelling OW over and over.

So now I have several holes in my new blouse and quite a few long claw marks along my ribcage, and the laughter of the Hubster still ringing in my ears.



About The Knitting Cinephile

I'm obsessed with good yarn, bad movies, and the Hubster.
This entry was posted in Conversations with Hubster, Furbabies, Scotvalkyrie is a grade-A goofball, Working in a coal mine and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to the dangers of going potty in the valkyrie’s house

  1. Shelley says:

    After 5 days?? I was gonna say, more like 5 months, but you beat me to it! Sorry about the blouse…and your skin…ouch.


  2. Shelley says:

    P.S. I can’t get your new URL to come up in my blogroll, and it’s annoying me. I’m sure Blogger is to blame somehow.


  3. artgnome says:

    isn’t Mike Rowe the BEST?


  4. awittykitty says:

    Guardcat thinks I’m a giant cat toy and bites my ankle everytime I walk by the coffee table. I’m glad I’m good for something.


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