Esme recently discovered my apartment’s fireplace. I never use it because it’s wood-burning, not gas. And a real fire in my apartment means
easy access to smores 24/7 which means packing on 5 extra pounds just seems like a recipe for disaster.
You can’t see me.
I’m not sure why she’s always in there, but I have a few ideas:
- Santa Claus is her idol.
- She thinks it’s the safest place to be during an earthquake.
- In case the apartment catches on fire, she has an escape route.
- She’s auditioning for a play in which she will play…a log.
How do you close this? I need some priv-a-cy.
Why is Esme Kitty in the fireplace? Does your pet have a favorite spot?
Did you feel that?
Yesterday at approximately 1:51 PM, I stood up to get
a third another my first and only piece of birthday cake, and as I stood up, the floor rumbled beneath my feet.
Here’s what ran through my head:
- Oh! Excuse me!
- Whoa, I think I’m about to pass out. I should eat something. Mmmm…cake.
- Whoa, sugar rush. I need to lay off the cake.
- The truth is out there…ALIENS!
- Supernatural‘s Winchester brothers just sent a demon back to the depths of hell. Demons, 0. Winchesters, 892.
You’d think that after last year’s earthquake, I’d be a bit more prepared and knowledgable about earthquakes. But no.
After the rocking, this conversation took place:
Coworker: Was that an earthquake? Should we stand in the doorframe?
Me: Probably, but get the cake first.
Seriously though. I didn’t say that, but I did say, “That was an earthquake? Oh man! Do it again! I wasn’t ready!”
Anyways, the earthquake was a 5.9, so the East Coast is well on its way to becoming the new San Francisco. And pretty soon Maryland, DC, and Virginia will detach from the rest of the East Coast and sink to the bottom of the ocean.
Next up: Hurricane Irene. I say, “Bring it on.”
It’s just a matter of time. It’s been nice knowing you.