Little Paws of Doom...

Imagine my horror when I walked into the bedroom late yesterday afternoon to find muddy footprints all over the sheets and comforter of the bed I sleep in.  "Damn-it to Hell, Maggie!" I mumbled accusingly.  Nothing a few cycles in the washing machine and dryer couldn't fix, though.  I wish she would realize she is doing this.  She is completely oblivious.  She looked at me while I started changing them like, "boy, these sheets sure are comfy now," as she lay on them.  I smiled as she wagged her tail.  You can't stay mad at that.

I didn't feel like going to Mrs. Florene's to eat breakfast and have communion this morning.  George called me back after I left a message on his cell phone and then Mrs. Florene got on the phone trying to persuade me to come.

"Baby, it won't be the same without you. I'm cooking your favorite Clarke Brother's sausage. I'll cook your favorite cheese eggs, too!" she pleaded over the phone.

"Mrs. Florene, my head is feeling abuzz.  I don't think I can drive," I told her.

I feigned mental illness, which was partly true, and settled in for a quiet, meditative, and relaxing morning of discovering new music.  I've been so into music lately and hope to get an Apple I-pod for Christmas to take on my walks.  The new ones are 160 gigabytes so I can literally bring my whole music collection with me on Maggie's and my jaunts.

Dad had his big Christmas party shindig for the pharmacy last night in Atlanta.  Mom and dad both came over afterwards to give me my mental health medications.  It was late and I had been groggily asleep.  Maggie was being stubborn when dad told her to get off the couch.  She was enamored with mom who was sitting next to me.

"Let's just say it's Maggie's birthday tonight!" I quipped with a big toothy grin on my face as I laughed.  I was punch and Risperdal drunk.

Mom burst out laughing and rubbed Maggie's belly. "It's your birthday, girl!" mom kept saying in baby talk.  Dad scowled and looked on menacingly.    Hell, I let her do what she wants to most days anyway. 

I have a date at two 'o' clock.  Well, mom is bringing my daily six Diet Cokes at that time.  I am so excited and giddy.  I can't wait.  It's Christmas come to town!  Don't ye olde soul need a life? (Laugh with me and not at me!)