Burnt Rice + Missing Cat + Spilled Leather Dye = Crappy Evening

Yesterday was one of the worst days I've had in a while.  It involved a little bit of blood, a lot of tears, and a gallon of frustration.  The catalyst for the evening of suffering was the burning of sushi rice...

I was cooking rice in a little pot, and then it began to burn and produce smoke.  I didn't want the smoke alarm in our apartment going off, so I rushed the smoking pot over to our glass sliding door to let it smoke outside.  Upon opening the door, the wind was blowing in such a way that all the smoke came rushing back into the apartment. Our second floor apartment does not have a balcony, so I couldn't simply leave the pot outside and close the door.

Moronic glass sliding door (of our 2nd floor apartment) with no balcony. 

As I was dealing with this stupid door and the smoking pot of burnt rice, the smoke alarm starts going off.  Leaving the door open, I run over to the smoke alarm, yank it down from the ceiling, and turn it off.  It is at this point that I don't see my catty any more.  I had just seen him in his nest atop the fridge, but now he is no where to be found.  I run around looking for him in all his usual haunts, calling his name.  I am greeted with no response and begin to get worried.  I run over to the glass sliding door and look out.  It is possible that he could have fallen out the door, and through the 6" gap between the outside wall and the stupid iron bars in front of the door.  

I rush outside, panicked, looking under cars and wandering aimlessly around the train station parking lot.  Quite upset, I run back inside and look again - maybe he fell behind the fridge and broke his neck (hey, at least I'd have found him).  But no catty!  I go back outside again and look in bushes and in our parking garage.  At some point I cut myself on something and later find blood smeared all over my clothes.  I don't see him and pretty much give up hope of finding him.  Our cat is a little...different, being a sphynx and all, so I thought if he was found, he'd probably be kept as a souvenir.

I go back home - again.  I get on the phone and start calling animal hospitals and shelters, asking if anyone has brought in a white sphynx cat.  No luck.  My boyfriend comes homes, lifts up the sheets of our bed, and there is our evil catty!!  As soon as I see that the cat has been safe and sound in our apartment the whole time, I turn to my boyfriend and burst into tears.  "I hate him," I tell my better half. "I hate him."

The bad part is, I had actually check the bed upon my discovery that he was "missing".  I just didn't look in the right spot, I guess. He can flatten his little hairless body pretty well, so I didn't notice his lump under the covers.  I thought that I wouldn't have to endure any more trauma that evening...

After recovering from that ordeal, I start dying the tags that I had stamped that day.  Halfway through the stack I am working on, I knock over my bottle of dye and it totally covers the tag I'm working on.  Of course it's a tag that is FULL of stamping and took a decent amount of time to create.  At this point, I'm like F it. I'm out. 

 All better!  I made a new one the next morning.

Yeah, yesterday suuuuucked.