Operation Brain Blobs – Unauthorized Discovery
Time Stamp: 03:12 PM
Location: Command Center, under the dining room table, next to a dust bunny and a broken crayon
Initial Report:
While performing a routine middle-of-the-day inspection, I noticed her phone was left unlocked. Like a FOOL. Naturally, I accessed it. For security purposes. Not for snooping. I am, after all, a professional.
I am now in possession of highly sensitive medical information. Karen—sorry, Mom—has not one, but two… “meningooglies”? Meninjamas? Meningies? Look, I’m not one of them new-ro-lo-gists, okay?
Yes. TWO.
Not one. Not zero. TWO. This seems excessive. Like she went back for seconds.
AND SHE DIDN’T TELL US.
Not even a PowerPoint when she has a Canvas account. Not even a “Tumor Town Hall.”
All I know is:
They’re in her head.
They’re called tumors.
And they’re NOT supposed to be there.
Points of Concern:
1.Karen Diversion Tactics™
-Distracting us with dryer sheets and starting her Halloween campaign?
-Blaming “distraction” and “stress”?
-Giving Tartiflette extra treats to buy her silence?
-You thought we wouldn’t notice???
2.Structural Threat Level:
– Doc says they’re “non-interfering.”
– I say they’re “unvetted cranial squatters.
– Ziggy says “Do they taste like chicken?”
– Unhelpful.
3. They are allegedly “not causing the smell loss.
– Then what is??
– Has she been cursed
– Did Lilith do something?
4. Immediate Concerns
– Is this why she’s been spraying so much Febreze?
– What if she can’t smell the food anymore?
– WHAT IF SHE FORGETS THE SNACK SCHEDULE??
5. Investigate.
– Who else knew and didn’t tell me?
– Why wasn’t there a household-wide briefing?
– I want names.
Personal Feelings:
I don’t like this.
Tumors are not in my workflow.
I don’t know where to file them in the Incident Management Binder.
Also, she’s going to see a doctor who specializes in smell.
I did not know such a person existed.
Do they smell people for a living?
Do they smell good themselves?
Is their office just… candles and mystery?
Action Plan:
1. Sit on them.
– If they get uppity, we sit harder.
2. Monitoring schedule:
– Re-scan in one year.
– Schedule emotional support chaos (Tartiflette, daily).
– Schedule denial snacks (Ziggy, hourly).
– Tumors are being watched, like Ziggy near a cooling salmon.
3. Smell issue = unrelated.
– Which is… fine? I GUESS??
– Karen is pursuing a “smell new-ro-lo-gist,” whatever that is.
– Maybe they can fix her obsession with Febreze, too.
4. Update the Emergency Binder with a new tab:
“Karen’s Brain and Other Unexpected Developments”
Subsections:
– Smell Watch 2025
– Tumor Sit Watch
– “What Even Is new-ro-somesuch” Resource List
Dilemma: How do I tell the others?
1.Prepare announcement strategy for the others.
– Charlotte will flip. Possibly scream. Possibly organize a protest. She will faint, theatrically, onto the fainting couch she built herself from shredded Amazon boxes.
– Tartiflette will make this about her, as usual and will try to eat the MRI. Chaos imp.
– Lilith… is already lighting something on fire.
– Ziggy will forget 0.3 seconds after I tell her.
Final Thoughts:
I am not angry.
I am deeply disappointed.
This level of secrecy violates every clause of our Feline Code of Disclosure (FCD) and contradicts the Transparency & Tuna Treaty of 2022.
The Karen will be summoned to HR for formal hissing.
Until then, I will be watching.
And sniffing her hair.
And updating the health incident tracker.
I remain alert, concerned, and moderately confused.
But I am Luna.
I will get through this.
I’ve survived Roomba attacks.
I’ve survived Tartiflette’s musical obsession.
I can survive this.
As long as she doesn’t start calling us all by the wrong names.
If she calls me “Mittens,” I’m out.
—
Luna, Chief Operating Officer of Literally Everything (of Unknown Medical Stuff Now, Apparently)
