Say What?

OMG. First of all, I had a problem going to sleep last night (this morning really). SOMEONE (Milly D. Catt) decided to tear around like a mad thing until very late (or early depending upon your diurnal orientation). It interfered with some medicine I took and by the time I finally went to sleep after 4:00, I was very groggy. Just a blink later, before 9:00 this morning, SOMEONE (the cat) decided she was hungry so once again she tore around the apartment, knocking sh*t off of tables, using me as a launching pad, and generally being expectantly annoying. Adverbs cannot fully describe my frustration, but they will have to do.

I felt weird while I fixed her bowl of gunk. Canned cat food has a disturbing aroma not unlike something I would immediately take to the garbage chute down the hall. It fully awaked me so I straightened the mess Milly made, searched (in vain) for the mate to my right skeleton hand fingerless gloves, and spent some quality time with RayAnn. I even made some oatmeal, so I also had to wash those dishes. If you don’t immediately clean them, the oatmeal turns to cement.

I was pretty exhausted and got back in bed to read and perhaps outline a chapter of my new novel. Of course I fell asleep. Now here’s the kicker- I dreamt that I had an argument with my “sig bister” Karen) about our childhood dog Rusty. Then Lady GaGa called my cell and invited me to her birthday party. We were old friends. I went to the party, and suddenly I was very underdressed. Everyone else was in tuxedos and formal gowns, not dressed outlandishly or avant garde at all. I was wearing a black stretch punk jacket with the Union Jack (also in black) sewn and tattered onto the back, a rubber strap tank top, hot pink stretch jeans, knee high Doc Martens with griffin appliqués, a metal, um, male belt buckle, and my carriage driver hat.

Now the weird part. I don’t know Lady Gaga. I woke up sweating and checked my voice mail to be sure she didn’t call, and then I checked my closet to make sure all those clothes were still put away. But that was an extremely realistic dream.

If you don’t know what a shaggy dog story is, you do now.

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