Maybe this year will be better than the last...
Nobody expects to wake up in the morning having lost several months somewhere along the way. Which is why, when Georgia rolls out of bed, grumbling and cursing, because the dumb dog won't stop whining, she doesn't check her journal or a calendar or the internet or anything. And also why when she gets dressed, it's appropriate clothing for early November, not for a snowy and windy January.
She shoves her sunglasses on, heads down to the lobby with the puppy trailing at her heels, and actually gets two or three steps outside before the cold hits her.
The puppy bounds into the snow without pause, bouncing around in gleeful abandon at the sudden change in environment. Georgia is less pleased by the situation. For a second, all she can do is stand there staring in horror, breathless from the sudden shock of icy wind. "Holy fuck!"
She starts to duck back inside, but stops halfway in, remembering that there's a relatively helpless, totally brainless living thing she can't exactly abandon in the snow. It would freeze to death, and then, against all better judgment, she'd feel bad. Hovering in the doorway, Georgia leans down to clap her hands and try to get the dog's attention. "Hey, dog. Dog! Come! Oooover here! ...come inside before you freeze to death, you spotty little idiot. If I have to come out and get you, I swear to god I will skin you and make a tiny rug."
The puppy cheerfully ignores her. Getting its attention would probably be easier if she'd bothered to give the thing a name before now...
She shoves her sunglasses on, heads down to the lobby with the puppy trailing at her heels, and actually gets two or three steps outside before the cold hits her.
The puppy bounds into the snow without pause, bouncing around in gleeful abandon at the sudden change in environment. Georgia is less pleased by the situation. For a second, all she can do is stand there staring in horror, breathless from the sudden shock of icy wind. "Holy fuck!"
She starts to duck back inside, but stops halfway in, remembering that there's a relatively helpless, totally brainless living thing she can't exactly abandon in the snow. It would freeze to death, and then, against all better judgment, she'd feel bad. Hovering in the doorway, Georgia leans down to clap her hands and try to get the dog's attention. "Hey, dog. Dog! Come! Oooover here! ...come inside before you freeze to death, you spotty little idiot. If I have to come out and get you, I swear to god I will skin you and make a tiny rug."
The puppy cheerfully ignores her. Getting its attention would probably be easier if she'd bothered to give the thing a name before now...