So, maybe I sat in the parking lot today and waited until Blood Sugar Sex Magik was done playing before I went into work, which meant I got in at 8:04, but do you think that means it was ENTIRELY my fault that we got a department-wide email today about how important it is that we are at our desks every day at 8:00?
Do you think it was a bad idea that I replied to the email with the lyrics to Blood Sugar Sex Magik, explaining how good that song is and how one can't simply just STOP LISTENING right in the middle?
Okay, didn't really do that.
I did wear stripy tights today, though.
I have no idea what a slitch is. But it did not bode well for the stripy-tighted witch.
In other news, Tallulah got a bath today at dog day care. You can call them and say, "Will you cut her nails?" or "Will you bathe her?" and they just do it! Because they are also a kennel and grooming facility. It is so conVENient!
Here she is, right now. You can tell she cares deeply that she is clean. And you know what's bugging me? That tiny piece of Ruby fur right in front of her nose, there. I have GOT to go get it now.
Anyway, so Tallulah's clean, and this, I have to tell you, will obsess Marvin. Whenever Tallulah gets a bath, her clean status is highly important to Marvin.
What you must also know is that when Marvin speaks to our pets, our ANIMAL COMPANIONS, his voice raises about 87 octaves higher than his normal speaking voice. Then he asks these poor creatures the most obvious questions. "Is my girl clean? Did my doggie get a bath? Does she smell good? Are you clean? Are you my clean girl?"
I wonder what the animal companions say about us when we are not home.
Tallulah: What's with that guy and his inane questions? YES. I'm CLEAN. Get OVER it, Bub.
Ruby: It's not the guy I think about so much, it's that girl. What is up with the kisses? She gets her HAIR on me when she kisses me.
Francis: Can we have those two put to sleep?
And speaking of Marvin, which we weren't…
I was looking for salsa the other day–which we are ALWAYS out of and it makes me wonder if Marvin does shots of it or if he is a salsa dancer and I don't know it–I came across all of these fake citrus fruits in our fridge doorway. Why? Why do we own these? Is Marvin phobic of scurvy? When he goes out salsa dancing, does he wear a Carmen Miranda costume and he uses these so he doesn't have to keep buying real fruit to put on his head? Is he trying to make homemade 7-Up? What?
And my final pressing piece of news for you today was it was a good mail day. One of my mother's friends sent me a funny gift (shout out to Gwen!), my intellectually stimulating Star magazine came, and my cousin Katie made me a pretty commuter mug:
One hopes this will help propel me to work EXACTLY AT 8:00!