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The hours are winding down
counting down
simultaneously
counting
up to the start up
time lengthening and widening
it’s time to pass Go
and collect my $200

Things my dogs have eaten:
 My pristine Blackberry 8530. My Emmie chewed right through the ALT button and I had to buy me a whole new phone because a broken ALT button means you can’t properly punctuate texts and emails. (Did you know that new 8530s are $500??)
 My Blackberry phone charger
 My replacement Blackberry phone charger
 My crackers
 My peanut butter crackers
 Raisins (this is toxic to dogs but of course, it didn’t affect my Poppy at all but I have the vet bill to show for my lack of attention)
 Snickers bar(s)
 Toilet paper
 My dignity
 My carpet
 The once-white grout in between my tile flooring
 My G.I. Jane dvd
 At least 8 pairs of shoes (seriously)
 At least 2 tubes of Neosporin (not toxic but beware of the doggie gas toxicity you will experience)
 Entire ketchup packets
 Pepto bismal
 Gummy snacks
 Old bread
 New bread
 Bread that was supposed to be all mine
 At least 6 book covers (good sources of fiber, apparently)
 At least the edges of 4 other books’ pages
 More rugs and towels than I can count
 Each other’s poop (grisly discovery)
 Grass
 More grass
 Worms (specifically earth worms, not parasitic ones)
 A dead bird (almost)
 Ants
 My newly-bought used digital camera (telling are the teeth marks on the lenses)
 My USB drives with all manner of writing on them (okay, they didn’t actually eat them but that was a close call)
 My daddy’s hand
 My balance
 My neighbor’s respect
 My car floorboards
 All of their toys
 Their dog bowls
 My flipflops
 My purple sweater
 My blue sweather
 My pea green sweater
 My Clinique cranberry lipstick. R.I.P.
 The contents of my bathroom trashcan

The dogs have also eaten away the anger I feel with they happiness they bring…especially when they are asleep.

MedicatedLady: who let the dogs out, bindo?
Bindo: I love dogs and sunshine and butterflies. I welcomed the sun’s light this morning and rejoiced in the sound of birds’ singing.
ML: What? Are you okay?
B: I love puppies!
ML: You’re using exclamations points these days?
B: For the sake of puppies, yes! You have a right pretty Poppy-dog.
ML: Thanks. Are you planning to murder puppies?
ML: Come down from the roof, bindo. You don’t need to do this.
B: Don’t make me do it because I will.
ML: Just calm down.
B: You drove me to it. Fine, here goes, I’ll say it. I’m a reasonable facsimile of happiness.
ML: You disgust me.

My esophagus feels hollow
which makes no sense does it
it’s not a cavity but an empty artery
that’s supposed to be empty
so why the hollowness feels so alien
shuddering with my heartache
is a mystery even webMD can’t seem to solve.

She had involuntary movements of her hand and neck
the kind that makes an observer wonder
exactly what the difference is between a palsy and a tic.

[Alas, it’s been a while. It’s not that I’ve grown away from you, dear reader; it’s that I’m a tap dancing fool who has to tap-tap-tap it out. I think you understand.]

The shake-a-shake down:
I just got a new job.
I don’t have any new puppies.
I recently got my hair did.
I recently became “just friends” with someone I was already friends with.
I’m wondering if spiritual enlightenment is for me if I have to leave my feelings behind.

And you?

SOB with me

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