Apparently we have a ghost in our apartment. No, things aren’t being moved around mysteriously, nor are the lights flickering just before we reach to turn them off. What is happening (as I’m sure you guessed) has to do with Cambridge (hide your face in shame, girl). She’s sleeping sweetly in my lap and purring up a storm when, out of the blue and for no apparent reason, she jumps up and bolts to the wall. There she stands, about a foot away from it, and stares intently at the trim. There was no sound and no movement that I detected at ALL that would attract her attention like this. So, I get down on all fours to examine the wall with her (I must look like a freak, I know), but to no avail. There’s just nothing there. She paces around and keeps checking out the wall for about 15 minutes before she gives up. This type of thing has happened several times in the past month. This morning was no exception. Instead of greeting Huz at the bedroom door as usual, he found her crouching in a corner staring at the wall. Now, as I see it, either I have an extremely bored cat who needs some serious entertainment, or we have a bug ghost. That’s right, a bug ghost. (Googling this brought me to a picture of this gross thing. Ew.) That, or my great house-cleaning skills have rendered lively populations of dust bunnies for her to look at. Speaking of which, I am so going to watch Oprah today to see if that seemingly rich, clean lady has gone back to living in a disgusting, rotting mess, or not.

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