I was in the yard raking feathers, as you do, because this happened:
Does anyone remember when Tallulah used to be the jerky dog? Do you? Remember when she ate my Chicago Manual of Style? And my favorite childhood book that is irreplaceable? And JUST when she was getting normal, WHAT did I do?
I need to be examined in the head. "Oh, I need a PUPPY!" I said. You were here. You saw me do it. You saw me obsess. "I want a puppy so BAD! I need everything in my house destroyed! I need it to look like we had a snowstorm just in the backyard and nowhere else! I NEEEEEEED that! I need my nice silk decorative pillow to be ripped from limb to limb!"
And everyone says, "At least he did it outside," but you know what's easy? Getting up 9394959384 feathers off the grass. You know what might have been easier? Vacuuming them off the hardwood floor.
At any rate, there I was, raking the feathers, when the phone rang inside. "Don't they know I'm out here raking feathers?" I thought grumpily.
But it was that company! The one that said they'd call me if they got funding for a fabulous job for me! And I am going in today to "discuss the position."
I had to buy new pants. Not because I peed on the ones I was wearing, which I kind of did, but because I bought this fancy gray-blue Chanel-ish jacket (if you could buy Chanel at J. Jill) for the last place I interviewed and I accidentally bought CROPPED pants to go with it and I went to that interview looking like Gilligan. I have 70 bazillion black pants and no other gray or blue, and I insisted to J. Jill when I went yesterday that their my-size pants just didn't fit right.
"Are these petites or something? They don't…give in the hips, somehow."
Guess who is a size larger? Guess who is a size 4789 now? Guess who is fatter than she has ever been and misses her Topamax days so, so bad? Oh, I need to diet, and yes I DID just eat strawberry pie and yes I DID just go to the salad bar at Harris Teeter and get fried rice.
I had better go get ready, and by the way I am having a feather giveaway. I know you all come here for the giveaways on this blog, you Greedy Guses.
Also, I have had the same people as comment of the week (see the This Week's Special button) for 80 weeks and I have been meaning to give Paula H&B and her comments about her cat Simon's poop the coveted award, and I do not even think she MADE that comment in the last seven days, but I am so far behind now that I am giving it to her and will catch up on Saturday, the traditional award day.
That was the longest sentence in the history of time. Now I gotta go FIND her comment, which should be a delight. Almost as delightful as raking feathers.