Nothing. My mind is blank and my eyes refuse to stay open. Just the remnants of a Madonna song come to mind. Something outside sounds like a crying puppy. Piddled on the floor and got swatted with a rolled-up magazine. Probably a catalogue. Okay, to blog. This is a blog post. The topic today is the thundercats who are scampering back and forth, cries of "Mrr!" issuing from their pink mouths. What makes the cats thunder? I didn't know where they were all night; they sneak around on little cloud toes that don't quite touch the ground and could have passed me one hundred times. In the dark I was alone. Now they thunder. It feels like a thunder of joy; kitties gleefully thundering past shouting "Mrr! Mrr!" Occasionally one stops with me, to survey the milieu, and to remind me that I'm special. Then he leaps off and resumes thundering, "Mew!" When you have a mood disorder I guess it's kind of like being a thundercat. When you're down, low a...