2004-01-29

I’m dog-sitting for a few days for Monster’s pair of schnauzers, or as I affectionately call them, “the hideous rat-creatures.” As I’ve mentioned before, people are strangely attracted to these spindly excuses for dogs because OH MY GOD THERE ARE TWO OF THEM!!! Apparently putting one mangy weasel-dog next to another mangy weasel-dog doesn’t double the cuteness factor – it squares it, forcing me to take part in early-morning conversations that do precious little for my joie de vivre:

Random menopausal freakshow: “Oh, how ADORABLE! Look at the DOGS! They’re so CUTE!”

Me: “You think so? Huh.”

Dog-sitting also entails sleeping over at Monster’s place, because the hideous rat-creatures will not survive alone in the untamed wilderness of a two-bedroom apartment. This means that my evenings are spent skulking around avoiding Monster’s roommate, not because he’s anything but a fantastic guy, but because I’m so sensitive to having my space invaded that I project that same sensitivity onto everyone else, and automatically assume that people in general don’t want me in their homes. Inside my skull is a fun place to be, I can tell you.

Long story short: I need a beer. Ŕ vendredi!