The Dog Can Now Jump on the Couch, and Other Horrifying Events in My Life
The 4 pound devil has found a springboard to launch herself onto the couch, and, from there, the bed. *Dundundundaaaa*.
I have obtained a 5 TB hard drive. May the obsessive collecting and backing up commence.
My sister is pregnant. There is nothing more frightening than this fact. The baby is a jumper, too, according to the sonogram technician. I'd be much happier if we didn't share the house.
My betta fish, Sashimi, committed suicide last night. I know what you're thinking--'a fish can't commit suicide'--but I tell you, this one did. I was cleaning his acquarium and had put him in a sealed, lidded cup with a hole at the top for the air to circulate. An hour later, while we were waiting for the water to settle, I discovered him on the floor. The cup was still exactly where and how I had left it. He had jumped out through the tiny hole. He was still alive when I found him, and I got him back in water immediately, but he was in bad condition, and didn't survive the day. I have sent him to be with the other fishes in the sea. :-,( .
My shoulders are really stiff. We assume its from David, but its hard to tell. We're certain with Sarah, but I've never bothered to get an X-Ray done. I am not 100% sure that I want to know my unique pattern of fractures.
We're training our fourth receptionist this summer. I feel like a broken record.
I reread a series from my childhood that I had really loved, called "The Seventh Tower" by Garth Nix. I enjoyed it a lot during the reread, and am happy I spent the money to rebuy it (since I had since purged it from my room.)
I have started to write a musical because of a pop song. This happens a lot, though. I hear any type of song, a video forms, and sometimes a huge plotline that requires extensive love and affection. They never get finished or go anywhere.
The dog just catapulted herself onto my lap.
This is going to be a problem.
Time for a nap.
I have obtained a 5 TB hard drive. May the obsessive collecting and backing up commence.
My sister is pregnant. There is nothing more frightening than this fact. The baby is a jumper, too, according to the sonogram technician. I'd be much happier if we didn't share the house.
My betta fish, Sashimi, committed suicide last night. I know what you're thinking--'a fish can't commit suicide'--but I tell you, this one did. I was cleaning his acquarium and had put him in a sealed, lidded cup with a hole at the top for the air to circulate. An hour later, while we were waiting for the water to settle, I discovered him on the floor. The cup was still exactly where and how I had left it. He had jumped out through the tiny hole. He was still alive when I found him, and I got him back in water immediately, but he was in bad condition, and didn't survive the day. I have sent him to be with the other fishes in the sea. :-,( .
My shoulders are really stiff. We assume its from David, but its hard to tell. We're certain with Sarah, but I've never bothered to get an X-Ray done. I am not 100% sure that I want to know my unique pattern of fractures.
We're training our fourth receptionist this summer. I feel like a broken record.
I reread a series from my childhood that I had really loved, called "The Seventh Tower" by Garth Nix. I enjoyed it a lot during the reread, and am happy I spent the money to rebuy it (since I had since purged it from my room.)
I have started to write a musical because of a pop song. This happens a lot, though. I hear any type of song, a video forms, and sometimes a huge plotline that requires extensive love and affection. They never get finished or go anywhere.
The dog just catapulted herself onto my lap.
This is going to be a problem.
Time for a nap.