(no subject)
This Octopus Pie comic describes my week.
I leave the dog alone for two minutes, only to come back to see that Pekoe has gnashed some unexpected item with her teeth. As soon as I purse my lips, she rolls onto her stomach as if to say: "Hey there. Look! I chewed something for you. I was going for a sort of Avant-gard, Dada-esque piece but then I decided to stick with classic Pekoe-ism. Are you just happy to have me around taking care of your stuff?"
But she is helpful to have around sometimes. Not sure if its the stress of the move (or the stress of living in Hobotropolis has finally cracked my brain) but I've been having terrible nightmares this week. Last night's offering including some stuff that was so bloody disturbing that I shot out of bed thinking: " What is wrong with you subconscious?"
Instead of climbing into my lap to comfort me like a loyal and understanding dog would, Pekoe looked up at me and snorted helpfully. And then went back to sleep.
At least her snoring was comforting.
Only six more days until the big move and then I can roll around on my hardwood floors and twirl around the book nook and generally be further away from Hobotropolis and the third floor drug dealer & tenant who think that 7 o'clock in the morning is a great time to start vacuuming.
Let the count down, well... Not exactly begin... Continue!
I leave the dog alone for two minutes, only to come back to see that Pekoe has gnashed some unexpected item with her teeth. As soon as I purse my lips, she rolls onto her stomach as if to say: "Hey there. Look! I chewed something for you. I was going for a sort of Avant-gard, Dada-esque piece but then I decided to stick with classic Pekoe-ism. Are you just happy to have me around taking care of your stuff?"
But she is helpful to have around sometimes. Not sure if its the stress of the move (or the stress of living in Hobotropolis has finally cracked my brain) but I've been having terrible nightmares this week. Last night's offering including some stuff that was so bloody disturbing that I shot out of bed thinking: " What is wrong with you subconscious?"
Instead of climbing into my lap to comfort me like a loyal and understanding dog would, Pekoe looked up at me and snorted helpfully. And then went back to sleep.
At least her snoring was comforting.
Only six more days until the big move and then I can roll around on my hardwood floors and twirl around the book nook and generally be further away from Hobotropolis and the third floor drug dealer & tenant who think that 7 o'clock in the morning is a great time to start vacuuming.
Let the count down, well... Not exactly begin... Continue!