Friday, September 04, 2009

Anyone want a neurotic dog? She’s free!

Question: is it a valid request to want to work from home because one is apparently suffering from chronic Gurgle Gut?

Qualifying fact: the request comes from someone who works in a cube farm.

Extra qualifying fact: the two chatty Cathies who normally provide SOME decibelic cover-up of the borbyrigmi are out of the office this afternoon, and the rest of us are clustered around the far end of the farm, making quiet little typy noises. Sometimes not even THAT, which means that my work atmosphere is like a tomb, but without all the cool echo effects.

Thank God for that, anyway. Echoes would NOT help the situation.

Seriously, this thing is getting way out of hand. For some reason (and I welcome guesses as to why), my intestines have decided to speak up and be heard every single day for the last 2 weeks or so. It’s getting to be freaking embarrassing! It’s not even like I have some disease or syndrome I can blame this on; not even a TOUCH of IBS or celiac sprue.

To which I say: SPRUE to YOU, my personal giblets! Hush UP down there!

And in response, my alimentary canal blurbles something that sounds very much like a creaky door swinging slowly open.



Cats who don’t normally go outside do NOT care much at all for being forcefully introduced to the great outdoors.

But hey, when they insist on shredding the carpet as their lil’ alarm clock participation, and insist on doing so even though they’re been corrected on this behavior many multiples of times in the past, there comes a moment when ‘tough love’ needs to be doled out.

That moment was this morning.

If you need proof that cats are evil, all you’d need to know is that this pissed-off cat didn’t moan and wail at either of the two doors to the house, oh no. She parked herself right under our open bedroom window, and commenced to raising such a wail as could be heard in all corners of the Tiny House. It ceased being comic as soon as we realized that she has a map of the Tiny House in her head, and knows which space in it belongs to the Secret Kingdom of our bedroom. Even from the outside, where she’s never ever GONE before! Tell me that ain’t spooky.

Ah well, perhaps she’s learned a lesson. At the very least, we’re 100% certain that the HVAC unit is free of spiderwebs…


It takes less than 20 minutes (which is, coincidentally, the time it takes to drive to the vet’s office for a standard rabies shot) for Skeeter to chew a bloody oozy bare spot on her ass the size of a dollar bill.

Yep – it’s just another service she provides to make our vet think we’re pouring hot oil on her ass and ripping her hair out by the roots as a means to liven up a random weeknight.

I expect a visit from the SPCA any day now.


That’s it for today. I’m forcing myself into productivity today, in the hope that I can get enough done in the next few hours to ameliorate any need for me to work Monday. Which I probably will anyhow. Because that’s how I roll.

Have a great weekend y’all.

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