[video]
Last night I had a dream that Ella—my brother and his fiancee’s dog—turned into a cat and no one noticed, except for me. And every time I tried to explain that she had become a cat, they thought I was crazy, and they never believed me. And I was like, but did you not notice that she goes in a litterbox now? It’s in your bathroom! And Paul and Kim sat me on the couch and tried to counsel me in my hallucinations. And then they’d look over me and give each other side eye and Kim pet my hair.
In other news, I started watching Season 1 of Homeland and I can’t stop thinking about it. Every time my mind has a free moment, it goes to Homeland and I can’t stop it.
I think Briggs might need dog therapy because he wakes up barking in the night and he is very suspicious of people at night because he is clearly scared of the dark and he constantly does little soft barks by the door, and maybe he sees ghosts.
I think I might need therapy because I think my puppy needs therapy.
I AM PARKER POSEY IN BEST IN SHOW.
IT’S NOT EVEN 1 PM YET.
Handsome giant puppy is handsome. (Taken with instagram)
Someone at the dog park said she wished we didn’t neuter Briggs because she’d love to breed her dog with him because could you imagine how precious those puppies would be, and we could make a fortune on them! and I was like
My boss decided we are all chubby (reading between the lines on that email) and he wants us to get healthy so we are going to have healthier lunches and snacks in the kitchen and there were incentives to get gym memberships, and that’s great. It is great that our boss wants us to be healthy. It’s great.
Here’s the thing.
Without me even thinking about it, I’ve rebelled against this. Like, I’m being unhealthy subconsciously? Like as defiance, maybe? I don’t know. How else would you explain my choice this morning in eating a brownie for breakfast so I could take my anti-inflamatory with food (WEAK PELVIS) instead of, I don’t know, CEREAL.
Whatever it was delicious. I choose my choice. I regret nothing. Liz your best life.
Today, I looked at my Vietnamese Sandwich and my heart said, “you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
They are a pair of brutally honest a-holes.
I had my first PT session this afternoon, and my physical therapist told me that I am weak. My hips are weak, and my legs are weak, and my back is weak,—I’m just a weakling in general—and he gave me a print-out of exercises to make me less weak. And he was perfectly nice about it and did it all with a smile and a very enthusiastic attitude. But my hips are all, LOL Marianniepants, you’re joking right?
MY PELVIS IS PATHETIC AND I DON’T EVEN CARE.
Someone at work gave me a free sample of soap yesterday. It’s organic and whatever, and apparently it has self-tanning agents in it (someone was sending me a message). Anyway, it got damp in the rain in my bag and now my bag smells inexplicably like a spilled rum and coke. And it is terrible. And I think I guess it is a blessing that I didn’t use it on my skin because I don’t want to be an orange, spilled-rum&coke-smelling lady.
They deliver everything in New York!
So what I want to know is, will they deliver all of the ice cream sandwiches?
