People, if there is ever another time when I have to pee in a cup for 24 hours straight, would you please just, I don’t know, at least make sure I have found my pile of books. I cleaned the kitchen and learned that the tiny cat, who claims to not be able to get on the kitchen counter without help is a total liar. I did a bunch of laundry.
I scratched the dog’s belly all a person could stand.
We went for a walk. I danced around the house. I contemplated how much the bathroom needs cleaning, but… alas, someone is peeing into a cup in there and then pouring it into a jug. No sense cleaning it until that mess is done.
We went to Sonic for lunch.
I had some bread for dinner. I lamented the fact that I seem to have lost the chocolate milk I purchased on Friday.
I discovered that my dad’s people are some cousin-marrying motherfuckers. I thought about compiling a list, but I did not. I recharged my phone and my iPod. I contemplated whether my ancestors Luke and Patience Phillips just sprang fully formed from the earth in 1850 and were lying about being from New York.
I was so bored I couldn’t even think of things to do.
I should have called my mom and whined at her.
Ahhh yes, my cat food is on top of the fridge to keep it out of dog reach, and Quincy (who is getting so fat he’s about to give that Japanese cat Maru that squeezes himself inside stuff a run for his money) likes to claim he can’t get up there anymore if I’m walking around in the kitchen. Though really he’s so blasted huge now it probably isn’t that easy of a task anymore (but I know he still can since he’s obviously not starving).