caught up in triviality

Around the beginning of the week, Molly started randomly spraying in a few places, for no apparent reason. This, obviously, is not desirable. Yesterday morning, I took her to the vet to see if there was some medical problem, and the vet said she needed a urine sample, but Molly's bladder was totally empty, so she couldn't get one just then, and did I want to leave her there for the day, so the vet could try again later. Now, I know my kitty, and if she's spraying because she's stressed out, an entire day at the vet would not be helpful, so I took her home and brought her back to the vet first thing this morning with hopes that a sample could be obtained. If not, I would have had to leave her there for the day today, so I was really hoping. The vet took her in the back to feel her bladder (the way they normally obtain a urine sample from cats is to feel if they have a fullish bladder, and then stick a needle in there to suck some pee out), and then came back out to tell me that when they took her out of the carrier, she got so mad that she peed, and that's how they got their sample. And then she pooped, too, so they got a fecal sample as well. THAT'S MY GIRL.

I have also been super stressed out recently (not to the point of spraying, though, go me!), and said something to my mother about missing my apartment where I lived all by myself, alone, with nobody else, and so I think I get to move out! (Backstory: my mother got a job overseas, and my dad is retired so he went with her, and I gave up my precious apartment and moved into their house to look after animals and stuff, and it was supposed to be for two years, but then my dad came home within six months, and I didn't think he should be left alone, and my mom stayed gone for three years, and then when she came back my dad's health rapidly declined, and I felt bad about leaving my mom alone with it, and also she kept saying I shouldn't move out until I had enough money to buy a house - so, never - and stress, stress, stress, but now I think I must have enough of the stench of desperation about me that they're ready to let me go again. Or my mom is, anyway. My dad keeps following me from room to room, and I haven't even started looking for a place yet.) So finding a place is a pain in the ass, and moving is a pain in the ass, but it will solve many things, and I think Molly will chill out, too, because she really does not like sharing space with other animals. I will be happy about having everything my way all the time, and Molly will be happy that nobody else is using the litter box. MFEO.