My cat sits on my laptop but not my lap

Wedgie has taken to sitting on my open laptop. I try to remember to close it. And more often than not I do. But when I forget, my cat Google's things like 4555555555555555555555 and types things like:
"Dear potential employers,
My name is Carman Lewis. I have a KOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUL8;aaaa777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777
777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777
xzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz90."

She also printed the above cover letter and a photograph of me. Maybe she's trying to get me a job. As an actress?

*edit: I was cleaning off my desktop and found a picture. It was a screen capture done by Wedgie while she was bookmarking my Google search "guarantee." I was looking to see how to spell it.

The quick list of things I've done in the last month.

US Grand Prix with Oscar















Katie visited















Ashley visited















We got two cats





























I went to Chicago

I've been absent lately, but here goes. For the last 4 weeks, I've been working at Hobby Lobby. I quit today. Do I have anything new lined up? No. But I wasn't really looking for something new before, so I decided to put the fear into myself. I hated Hobby Lobby. Well, not always, but enough to make me quit. I will miss the conversations with people buying actual art supplies, but I will not miss the horrible cash registers, or all the children. I realized I could quit on Wednesday, when I skipped out and drove to Chicago to "see" the Decemberists perform at Millennium Park with the Grant Park Orchestra. I say "see" because I never did actually get a visual, but the audio was amazing. I met Robbie and a whole bunch of his friends. We crowded over Chicago style pizza and were drizzled on. As the concert let out, it started pouring. I HATE DRIVING IN CHICAGO IN THE RAIN AT NIGHT!!! I'm surprised I still have a stomach after all the driving stress dumped gallons of acid into my digestive system. Later that night, over horchata, which is delicious, I confessed a few secrets to Robbie, and battled over whether to drive home that night so I could make it to work. Well, I decided to quit and stay the night. I didn't call in yesterday, but just now--ten minutes ago--I called my manager and said I wasn't coming in today, or ever again. Ah relief. And now fear of holy shit what am I going to do now? So, Hobby Lobby is no longer my house of worship. It is now IKEA. Ah, I love blasphemous sarcasm about consumerism. I told Oscar I was moving in to the IKEA showrooms. He begged me to come home, so I did, but not without buying some curtains, a print, and some new sheets. Seeing all these perfect rooms really depressed me, and the best way to cure that, was to add little bits of perfect to my completely mish-mashed apartment. I definitely want to go back to Chicago, and IKEA. I think, however, that I will find out if there is some good place to park that is out of town, but near a train station. My dad hates flying because he hate relinquishing control, which is fine. But the whole time I was in Chicago, I was imagining what it would be like to live there. And if my dad would willingly take the L. I mean, public transport is relinquishing control. But then, driving in Chicago feels even less like you're in control. You're subject to other driver's and pedestrians. So with public transport, you're really only surrendering to time. And no matter how much you want to have a handle on it, you can never control time, not even you're own.