I don't know what the guys are doing downstairs, but it smells like they've poured nail polish remover all over the floor. Dang. And I thought having the litterbox up here was bad.

Yes, Boots is in a dictator (me) imposed exile up here in the computer room with me. I don't want him running around the house while they're trying to work. Who knows what he could get into. All I need is him stepping on a nail and trailing blood everywhere and I end up having to take him to the vet.

Better him than me though, since I know where the vet is, but have no idea how to get to a hospital from here.