Squeaky bum time...

We get paid tomorrow afternoon. Right now, we have about $70 collectively to get us through until then.

We have resources. A metric fuckton of tinned tomatoes, loads of pasta, loads of rice. No cheese. Or at least, no cheese that we know how to cook with.

We do have a wedge of the famous Wensleydale, but we need crackers to try it. And the kids might yet turn their noses up at it because some Americans went and put cranberries in it before they sold it to us.

Those bastards.

I apologise to any cheese aficionados who just got offended. But this is Australia and that was the first piece of Wensleydale we have seen in... ever.

Anyway. We will be able to eat. Do not worry.

What we might not be able to do is get the cat some medicine for her eye.

She has part of her eyelid turned inside out after the surgery, and she needs kitty eyedrops to keep it healthy. I think. The vet offered to snip it, but... I don't think she'll be able to close her eye properly if that happens.

Devil? Deep blue sea? Rock, meet hard place.

Note that we get paid on Tuesday AFTERNOON.

The cat goes back to the vet on Tuesday MORNING.

Very squeaky bum time. Kitty medicine may cost us every dollar we have. At least until payday minute rolls around and we can take another deep breath of relief. Hell, I may even have to come back and pay off the kitty medicine.

But for now, I focus on my writing until it's too hot to not focus. And then I get on with the laundry. Gotta use that heat for something.