Why would you eat me?
I thought I would update you on the progress of acquiring a sleep disorder that ups my productivity.
I don’t know whether to celebrate or throw in the towel.For the last two days I have given myself subliminal messages about accomplishing tasks in my sleep, as planned.I wrote phrases on flash cards and taped them around the house, reading them every time I walked by.Things like “tighten butt,” “scoop cat litter,” “clean house,” “make dinner,” and “esta es una lampara (this is a lamp).”What, I’m also trying to learn sleep Spanish.
Anyway, the first night… nothing.I did the usual: went to asleep, fell off some kind of ledge, confronted an old elementary school friend about calling me a weirdo, and made out with George Clooney, who was about to take me to his villa in Tuscany on a spaceship piloted by Brad Pitt, when I was rudely awoken by my son wanting me to make lunch for school.Why do I have an account with the cafeteria anyway?
Last night was different.I didn’t dream at all.No revenge, no superstar rendezvous, no awards ceremonies, or nightmares about planes, sharks, or sharks on planes.
I woke up feeling funny, disoriented.
My souffle was not rising.
My bed was not made.
My buttocks were not tightened.
My cat litter was not scooped…
Apparently, while sleeping last night, I cooked my work out band, cleaned my neighbors house, tightened her daughter’s braces, and ate my cat.
Now, this may seem like a setback.
Many people would give up, especially after eating their cat, but not me and the Vietnamese.I’m looking at the silver lining and calling it a success.
So, things didn’t go as planned, and my son needs a little therapy.Life is about learning and opening new doors and in that vein, I am opening a night housekeeping/orthodontics service, at the very low cost of ahem, achem, cha cha, kak.Sorry, hairball.
Call for an appointment.Your money back if I eat your pet.GUARANTEED.
Refund subject but not limited to pets deemed reasonable.Tarantulas, snakes, lizards, and gerbils not included.Only half refund for mid-sized rodents i.e. guinea pigs, ferrets and bunnies.Price where prohibited.You pay me if I eat anything shelled, like hermit crabs, snails, and turtles, or bacon, I mean pot belly pigs, except George Cloony’s, which I will spare in return for sexual favors…. bla,bla,bla,bla……..
You really didn’t eat your cat, I took her, look around you’ll find Cleo in the castle, but be careful as she might eat you. Get it together girl, things aren’t that bad. Although, I might not be eating at your house any more as I don’t know what I’ll actually be eating, was that really chicken?
Hi Jenny,
Just wanted to let you know that I linked to your blog today. I’m telling everyone that you are one of my favorite blogs to read!
Kudos,
Lynn
Wow, do you want to borrow my time machine?
nah, you didn’t really eat the cat. she’s hinding behind the dryer. open a can of cat food and she’ll return.
from now on read into a tape player about a hundred times ” I will not eat GC’s pig, I will not eat GC’s pig, I will not eat GC’s pig…play it back with the speaker to your ear while sleeping. I bet when you wake your butt will be tighter. As for the sex if you get any… I wanna be next in line!
Wow,great blog. Welcome to MBC!
I hate hair balls. C’est une lampe – in case you want to learn French too.
Night night,
Kat
Katja- frankly, who doesn’t. Bon Nuit. was that close to something. Unfortunately, the only one is my house who spoke French was the chat, ahem, cat and I ate her before she had a chance to impart that wisdom. Oh, well.
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