This morning, I was making the coffee and the cats were in their little window, meowing for food, while the dogs moaned at their dishes like I never feed them.
"You know," I said, and whenever I try to reason with the pets--yes, I do--I always start with "you know." "You know, you guys have to wait till mom makes her coffee. I'm the leader of this pack."
And that is when Tallulah fell to the floor in utter hysterics. Seriously, she was wiping her eyes with Edsel's lace hankie.
When I got up this morning, I saw I'd thrown yesterday's clothes on the floor of the spare bedroom, and it all came back to me what I did last night. I STUPIDLY stayed up and watched The Exorcist, and then I was too afraid to walk all the way into the closet to put my clothes in the hamper. I was convinced the devil was in there waiting for me. Because the devil is in the closet. The devil is in Miss Jones.
You know how I often come home for lunch and start watching an old movie on TV, and then I'm always loathe to leave for work again, as if modern technology hadn't yet invented ways to see the end of a movie later or something.
Iris usually falls asleep on me during lunch, too, and I'm loathe to remove her squooshy warm self.
The other day, The Exorcist was just beginning, and I watched it long enough to SCARE THE BEJEESUS out myself before I had to go back to work. Then last night I was flipping around, not literally, and came across the movie again, pretty much where I'd left off.
When we left off, Regan had peed the floor. Let's see what happens next.
OR NOT CAUSE YOU LIVE ALONE AND TALLULAH IS YOUR ONLY PARENT AND SHE'S AN ATHEIST AND THIS MOVIE DOESN'T SCARE HER. I feel like Tallulah would be the type to scare you after a scary movie. Roll her eyes up in her dog skull and groan.
The thing is, once you get past HOW EFFING HORRIFYING that movie is, it's really a good movie. Plus, that house in Georgetown is lovely. Not that you'd get even one s-shaped hair of mine in there, if it's a real place. No fucking way.
Speaking of scary, over Christmas, my coworker Griff had some work done.
There's this weird shelf of stuff behind me, including that mask, and I like how just now, showing you this photo, I see FedEx envelopes, and I need FedEx stuff to mail back that riveting statistics textbook, and all this time I've been all, If only FedEx supplies were conveniently located.
And speaking of my coworkers, my coworker Fewks came over to my desk yesterday. "Hey, June, I hear you're selling coffee mugs. How much can you get for this one?" Then Fewks went online and lovingly bought himself a couple's massage. Let's start the bidding at 50 cents. Do I hear 50 cents? For a genuine used Fewks mug?
I'd better go to work. It's a cold, rainy day, and there's little shittier than cold rain falling on you, unless it's literal shit falling on you, in which case, you should probably relocate, if that's your weather.
Your mother knits socks in hell,
June
