Bonjour, bitches. It’s Monday. I’m not happy about it either, but you don’t see me whining about it, now do you?
Honestly, time has no meaning to me anymore. I’d say it’s been like that for at least the last 6 months, but it’s been longer. Years, even.
Mom‘s attempt to do laundry yesterday ended in a trip to the laundromat. I think she had a load in the washer and Brian’s jeans hanging on the line to dry when the thunder started. She and Brian went out to dry the clothes, and I went shopping for what we needed to bring to dinner. I was heading to Walmart when I remembered there’s another Walmart 10 minutes away, right behind the pot shop. I turned around, and went in the other direction. I restocked what I needed, grabbed the stuff for dinner at the Confederate Compound, and went back to the house.
Mal has spent the last 5 minutes dancing between the kitchen table and where I’m sitting. He was excitedly “merping” at me. I went to see why he was worked up. Reasons could be anything, really: a bug, a snack, a particularly scary bit of dust bunny. As it turned out, he just wanted me to follow him to the bedroom, so I would cover his poop.
Normally, I would have scooped it, but I cleaned it literally 10 minutes earlier. I have a coffee to finish.
Mal was so proud of his poopy, he wanted to show you!
He’s an odd duck