Repeat after me…
Repeat after me, brain…
I am sleepy…
I am sleepy…
I am…
Awake.
That’s enough poetry for today.
And, yes, I know it’s not Friday. At least I think I know it’s not Friday — but maybe it’s Friday in another dimension. Is there beer in other dimensions?
The Tiny Terror just knocked the phone over — it was in his way.
That “I’ll show you who’s boss” moment didn’t last long. He’s out the door again. I don’t know where he’s been, but he left half the dirt from the front yard on my desk.
Oh, the joys of being owned by a cat.
.
Thank you, I will.
For the Tiny Terror, Insomnia is a good time to badger the human into opening a can.
I think cats were endowed with the empathy of a psychotic turnip spliced with a prickly pear cactus.
Just sayin’
Oh! so redolent of life
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When you live with this many cats and dogs, “redolent” is a good word. 🙂
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ah, insomnia, the universe’s way of granting your wish for “more time to get things done.” If only the rest of the family enjoyed the sound of the vacuum running at 2am.
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Two in the morning is the best time to write. The cultural editor in your brain is asleep. Once you wake up and ask, “Did I write that?” You already have 20 likes and it’s too late to take it back. 🙂
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