So, Marcus is sick. He's got a cold and generally looks unhappy, which makes me unhappy. I'm hoping he'll snap out of it soon, but if he's still looking crappy or worse tomorrow, I'm going to have to get him checked out. My exceptionally nice roommates offered to help pay for the vet bill since it was their kitten that undoubtedly brought home the nasty little virus but I doubt I'll take them up on it. It's not like there's anything they could have done to prevent it, and honestly, Marcus brought this on himself the way he's constantly licking the kitten. Apparently, his neurotic cleanliness applies to all cats in his vicinity, not just himself.

The kitten, by the way, is named Tato. Or... Tate-O? Tatoe? I dunno. Sounds like the last half of potato, but I'm pretty sure Eylem stuck an "e" in there somewhere so... go figure. Maybe it's a Turkish thing. I don't question it, mostly because this is like the fourteenth name this poor cat has had since coming to live here and I don't want to risk Eylem losing confidence in her latest choice. This one appears to be sticking, though, so I'm probably being overly cautious. Oh well.