Dammit, why do some nights suck?

Our cat, Mary Andromeda, had two kittens last month -- Gertrude (black) and Edith Piaf (black and white) -- and they're still too feral to let us touch them, although I've been Edith Piaf has let me get pretty close to her. But for some strange reason, they both ran into the house the other night. We managed to catch Edith Piaf in the dining room and let her back outside. Gertrude somehow got all the way to our room, and when we finally caught her, she scratched and hissed and practically jumped out of my hands. They were both scared to death, and I'm sure the experience has traumatized them for life. Adam was off somewhere when it happened (probably wandering outside at night, which is his favorite hobby), and when he got back I told him he'd missed all the excitement.

I just finished reading The Seer of Shadows, by Avi, who writes pretty great young adult historical fiction. It's meant to be scary, and I'm a wuss, so it was certainly enough to creep me out at 2 am. To distract myself from it, I started reading Jessi and the Dance School Phantom instead and stayed up till 4 am. Which wasn't the best decision, because I had to get up at 10 yesterday for a job interview. But in spite of my sleep deprivation, I like to think the interview went well. I would really like the job, but from what I could tell, there are a lot of applicants. The people who interviewed me said they'll be making a decision within two weeks.

Sara and I rented movies last night: X-Men 3 (which we watched only to see if it was as bad as we remembered, and it was), Cloverfield (which we're going to watch tonight), and Rodgers & Hammerstein's Cinderella from 1965. We laughed until we cried.

Sara is off from work tomorrow, so I'm hoping we'll get over to see JC & Company.