Well, it turns out dear Tobey did indeed have a bladder infection. I now force-feed her a tiny white pill every 12 hours to clear the infection up. She seems in high spirits (minus the dirty look I get every time I stuff another pill down her throat) and has used her litter box twice and the tarp once. Beth, the one-stop-cat-wisdom-machine, advised me to ditch the tarp, as if it has retained even the slightest odor of urine, Tobey will think of it as a second box, infection or not. I told Tobey that if she can use her box three times in a row, she can sleep with me at night and not in the bathroom. At five times in a row, I'll let her go into the bedroom when I'm not home. Right now she is at one time in a row. She should be up to 2 by the time I get home from work, and should reach her 3-goal by the time I get back from jujitsu. I predict a kitty in the bed by tonight.
I also had the vet remove Tobey's claws while she was in, and the whole household is feeling better for it. Tobey hasn't been squirted with the water bottle since she came home Saturday, and I can finally remove the scratch barriers I have placed strategically around the apartment. She doesn't seem to mind having her claws out, and actually spends a good deal of time "sharpening" her imaginary claws on my bedspread.
In work news, after I gave my notice on Friday, the paralegal who has been my mentor alerted me that the firm intended to make a counter-offer to keep me. Sweet. They haven't gotten it together yet, but I told her that I was going to accept the mortgage offer at 5pm if I didn't get a better deal. She wrote down a "list of demands" and told me not to agree to anything till she got an official offer from the partners. They now have one hour and 5 minutes to come up with something good.