A good day

Despite having been woken throughout the night by banging and howling (trees and wind filth merchants), I'm having a good day.  Decided to browse online sales and found a corker of a dress with nearly £60 off!  I can't afford it, don't really need it and am not sure that I actually like it, but it's NEARLY £60 OFF!  Buy it before I change my mind and double joy - there's free post and packing.  That's a sign from God that this was meant to be bought. 
Husband rang.   He's been away for three days at swanky hotel (I know, I checked the website when he said, "yeah, it's okay") for some awards ceremony industry thing.  Must listen more.  So he's won. YAY!  Dunno what, as was still recovering from headrush of dress with nearly £60 off.  A good day all round...

I bet Teri Hatcher doesn't spend her days cleaning up cat sick...

So, I've resigned.  From my job.  With no job to go to.   Madness.  But...a liberating madness, the type of madness that makes you giggle hysterically sometimes thinking, "WHAT have I just done?" like getting pregnant, or married.  People are kind, in the main, but I sometimes see a look in their eyes that says, "Are you mental?  You've given up a job in THIS economy?  Hmm, more money than sense."  But I'm free!  Free at last!  So what to do...?
I decide to be domesticated.  I hoover, polish, mop, clean the bathrooms.  Satisfying.  Until the cat comes downstairs meowing plaintively.  "Hey Puss, what's up?" (Yes, I know but he's the only one around to talk to).  He makes a noise that sounds like wine chugging from the bottle (aah, wine) then promptly hurls onto my hoovered, mopped floor.  Right, you furry git, this is war.