I do know what the kitty has to be so happy about. Among other things, she gets to nap undisturbed in my chair despite the inconvenience her occupation of it brings me. I'm sitting on the couch, wireless keyboard in my lap, straining my eyes to see the computer monitor which I've brought as near as I can without risking that it might fall off the desk. I suppose I ought to either boot the cat from the chair or use the laptop to update the journal, but she looks so peaceful lying there (awwww), and its such a hassle to switch the cables around to get an Internet connection for the laptop. So I boot neither cat nor laptop, and now my back is getting tired.
I'm not sure what I have to be happy about, but there must be something because I am feeling inexplicably happy. Threatened by probable drought, pussycat whipped, too technologically inept (or lazy) to switch a couple of cables around, not getting my LJ e-mail notifications for at least the last two days, plagued by stiffening joints which have kept me uncomfortable for months, and living in a world in which major cities are all to often run by people who have lost all grip on reality, I am inexplicably happy tonight. It may have been the potatoes I fried, of which each and every slice turned out a perfect golden brown, and of exactly the right texture. Either that or the extra bottle of beer I washed them down with.