Returning from my blogging break means that I have a lot of stored words waiting to get out.
Don’t worry – they all won’t be written today. I have been trying to make a conscious effort to keep my posts to under 750 words. I like to just free-type, and then I go to edit and instead of paring down, I add full sentences (and sometimes paragraphs) making my posts even longer. But today I am organized!! This post is just the little odds and ends that don’t fit in anywhere else.
First of all: I have missed you! I know I said that yesterday, but the daily interaction with you guys is something that puts a whole lot of happy in my life and I missed that over the weekend.
Do you ever have those times where you are driving in a car with a friend, and it is dead silent until one of you just bursts something out and you think to yourself “this is why I am friends with you”?
I had one of those moments while I was gone. My work wife and I went out for lunch on Saturday and I was driving us home, it was quiet in the car and all of a sudden she just blurts out “O-M-G I HATE RACHEL!!!” *name changed because that’s what I do*. I could do nothing more than laugh and go “YAAAAASSSSSSS!! I love conversations that start that way!!” We both used to work with Rachel at Tim Hortons and I hated her from the second day. She threatened me once, was a horrible worker and a horrible person. It took the wife a little while longer to figure it out but it happened and now I am the only one she can talk to about it because Rachel and Magoo are still friends. So I was treated to a story on how much of a horrible person Rachel still is.
I think my dog is a genius. I woke up Saturday night, around 1:30, and went downstairs to use the bathroom/get a glass of water. When I opened the door at the bottom of the stairs, my dog was on the couch and he lifted his head to see who was there. I went back up and closed the door to the stairs. About 10 minutes later I hear his tags jingling on the stairs and I get up and the door is open and he is halfway up. He’s old and has begun to form cataracts so he doesn’t like climbing the stairs in the dark. I turn the light on and he went the rest of the way up. The next morning, I am informed that neither of my parents opened the door for him. So there is only one explanation: my little chubchubs of a shit-zu who only comes up to my knee when standing on his hind legs opened the door himself. Or in reality, I didn’t latch the door fully when I went up and the pressure from having the windows open made the door open a little and he just used his little paw to pull it the rest of the way that he needed.
Speaking of stairs: I’m such a clutz that I actually forgot how many stairs there were while walking down them. People usually do this walking up. It’s not a pleasant feeling to think you have one more going down. You are walking down the stairs you have walked up and down probably thousands of times (my parents have lived there for almost 8 years, and I’ve lived with them a combined 4 years there), and you get to the bottom but your legs think there is one more stair. Of course, I stumbled and fell, scaring my poor dad, smashing into the table beside the couch, stubbing my toe, bruising my arm and having the right side of my body ache for the last few days.
I’ll be trying to get out some more posts this week as I also try to catch up with all your new posts from the weekend. Future topics will include:
- How stunning I am
- My parents’ house being haunted by ghosts
- Being a lazy stalker
- An Update on Mr NolongerHasPotential
- A book review
- My trip to the Aquarium on the 15th.