I shouldn't drink wine alone, no matter how good I think I feel, because it is just a ruse and soon Fitz will bite my feet and the page will be blank and I'll be starved for the feel of the wind from an open car window. I have bite marks on my ankle and intense procrastination and probably a ton of insecurity and doubt and maybe even a little annoyance at Fitz.

He was SOOOOOO cute and sleepy and cuddly earlier. It was so so so cute. He followed me around when I started to hyperventilate and he looked concerned, for a cat. But now it is just meeeeeoooooow. He's wide awake because I let him nap so much during the day. He wants to play and won't stop meowing out of boredom. He's on an "attack" spree, first Simba, then the bag, then Simba in the bag. I gotta hide my ankles.

And I miss Charlotte. I miss going on errands and taking her with me.
Having a dog in the car > having Fitz in the car.
I think Fitz and I are having a squinting contest. He's being pissy. I'm tipsy.