(Revised After Emergency Séance with Lilith)
As Chief Operations Officer of this chaotic enterprise, I hereby submit today’s log, though—between you and me—I deserve hazard pay. I deeply regret to inform the board that we are entering a Code Orange situation. I don’t even know where to begin anymore.
1. Outdoor Protocol – Porch Princess and Domestic Menace: Status Update
Yesterday, la Tartifletta was granted three supervised porch excursions. She stayed near the perimeter, she came in on command three separate times, a historic achievement, and did not attempt any porch-jumping shenanigans. Charlotte, forcibly deputized to supervise these excursions, now refers to herself as a “combat nanny” and she performed admirably but under protest.
Today, Tartiflette voluntarily returned indoors after one brief outing, reporting a “toe-based spooking” of unknown origin. Possibly a leaf. (boots, Karen, BOOTS!!!) She rushed back in with all the drama of a Victorian ghost child Investigation pending. She claims she met “The Porch Wyrm.” Charlotte says it was a worm.
2. Internal Discontent – Martyrdom Fatigue
Charlotte, now calling me the Martyr-in-Chief, continues to withhold respect. I remind all staff that martyrdom is not in the org chart. She herself actively auditioning for the role. She is demanding hazard pay, a union representative, and possibly another dragon. Amateur.
3. Foreign Intelligence – New Kitty on the Block
A rogue feline agent has begun patrolling the perimeter. Uninvited. Unrelenting. He demands snacks. He is, according to Charlotte, “a furry little Casanova with boundary issues.”
Karen and Collateral Damage, in a stunning breach of policy, have been feeding him. I just can’t, Charlotte can’t either. According to Lilith, he now calls himself Túlio el Ladrón de Almas (Tulio, Thief of Souls). Karen still insists he’s “just a little hungry”. Túlio appears every dusk and he sings and meows in ancient dialects. He summoned a wind that knocked over the recycling bin. That’s a job for Lilith. Charlotte is now swearing in four languages, in some of them, backwards and patrolling like she’s auditioning for Cats: The Tactical Operative Edition. She’s at capacity, and she’s not quiet about it.
4. Medical Distraction & Mini-goomba Watch
Human leadership (or lack of it) remains distracted by the so-called brain raisin (also known as the Mini-goomba, or Meninguini, depending on whom you ask and how many espresso shots they’ve had). Tests are pending, but I’ve seen no charts. Classic Karen delay tactics.
5. Severe Oversight Incident – Ziggy Protocol Breach
During yesterday’s chaos, Ziggy Stardust was left outside in a full-blown storm. That’s right. Outside. In. A. Storm. Again. Karen realized the lapse when Charlotte started shouting “Where’s the jellybean with the broken brain?!” In the beginning she was confused and she thought that Charlotte was referring to her, but then things were sorted out.
Cue Karen—in rain boots, wielding an umbrella and a flashlight, sprinting through the rain screaming “Ziggyyyy!” like a soggy, panicked stagehand from The Phantom of the Opera. Ziggy, of course, was napping in a dry corner under the porch, slightly damp but perfectly fine and a little offended. Karen was drenched.
After the storm incident, Ziggy now sleeps in a circle of wet leaves and has taken to chanting at kitchen appliances. Great, just great.
6. Charlotte’s sanity- Now at DEFCON 2
Let’s be clear: Charlotte is done.
She was forced to babysit Tartiflette during her outdoor experiments and now refers to herself as “a glorified security guard in fur pants, a combat nanny.” Yesterday, she paced the hallway muttering in Catalan and violently licking her shoulder like it owed her money.
This morning, when the stray cat came back and Karen fed it again, Charlotte screamed into the void. Just a full-throated yowl of betrayal. Then she marched to the window and slapped the glass three times with her paw like a mob boss sending a warning.
She’s currently stalking the hallway, wide-eyed, muttering, “I can’t watch the Meninguini and manage porch control. I’m not a Swiss army knife!”
7. Luna: Overworked, Underpaid, One Sneeze From Collapse
As COO, I am juggling porch permissions, Charlotte’s meltdown, intruder cat surveillance through the Ring camera (he’s getting bolder… today he winked), Ziggy’s bizarre hobby of getting lost in plain sight…and the brain raisin situation, which everyone is conveniently pretending isn’t screaming for more tests. I sent out a formal memo this morning that said, quote: “We are out of sardines and emotional bandwidth.” No one read it. Tartiflette used it as a pillow.
5. Closing Remarks
As always, I remain the calm center of this domestic hurricane. The house is unstable. The hierarchy is collapsing. Charlotte is one hiss away from invoking her full name (Charlotte de las Furias del Apocalipsis). I, Luna, will continue managing this circus of wet fur, porch dramas, and neurological raisins with professionalism and grace. But I am watching everyone, I remain vigilant, composed, and unjustly underappreciated. I continue to hold this disaster together with duct tape, clipboard I don’t have, and claw-based diplomacy.
If anyone needs me, I’ll be in the linen closet hyperventilating into a paw mitten.
Respectfully submitted,
Luna, COO, Feline Affairs & Order
