MASTER OF PUPPIES I'M PULLING YOUR CHAAAAIN
I'm up far too late for a work night and I have to go to bed, which I should have decided BEFORE checking my friendslist, because now I have a bunch of tabs left open to read tomorrow or something.
Today we went to a fundraiser day at an animal sanctuary. Not much to do there, and no doggies to go and look at, but visitors brought dogs and so I got briefly but thoroughly Black Labbed. There was a fire engine and a lady in a dalmatian costume, which seemed an obvious publicity photo opportunity to me, but I had to go through several people before finding one who knew of the historical connection between the fire service and dalmatians (some people are SO UNEDUCATED).
Later we went to someone's house to look at some kittens, but mum didn't fall for them as I'd kind of hoped she would (it has to be said they weren't as special-looking as I'd expected, either) so we're still animalless at least for the summer. Pfft. My plan to cut this time short, for the good of my health1, continues. Next I shall print pictures of all those poodle crosses she likes so much (although anything whose breed ends in "doodle" is not something I'd feel particularly butch walking, except perhaps "cockerdoodle" which is hilarious) and stick them up strategically about the household.
Should fill in that form to volunteer for pet care in the meantime.
Looks right up my street, don't it? Except for all the having to deal with non-non-human people. If one of them mistakes me for their home help or something I might panic. I can change a fuse and bandage a limb but I retch like a little girl if I have to clean up vomit or poo.2
And urgh, forms and references and damn passport photos required. This right here is why I never get things done.
Oh, and today I introduced my mother to episode one of Sherlock, pointing out the references (Brett-Holmes opening sequence reference FTW), and the track Master of Puppets by Metallica. Along with the dalmatian thing, this is good parent-education. Damn these schoolteacher genes, though, seriously... I can't seem to keep Interesting Facts to myself.
Wait what I was going to sleep wasn't I daaaaaaaamn.
1 I need animals, as I've mentioned, so this can even be dressed up as self-defence rather than merely blithe self-interest.
2 Srsly, having a sense of smell that is alternately hyper- and hyposensitive, depending on which would cause its master more inconvenience3, is a blasted pain.
3 For example. Gas leak? Burning? Cannot smell it AT ALL. Poo? Rotting vegetables? I'm dry-heaving in no time flat. Stupid senses, always either keeping me uninformed or foisting on me a world of TMI. If they were minions I'd throw them onto the slow fire pour encourager les oreilles.