Looks like somebody’s got a case of the randoms

A Smattering of Things That Will Never Come Up On the Television Show Jeopardy!

Sometimes when I'm falling asleep, I feel like my body is stretching to giant proportions. I always think, "Fuck yeah! I'm about to crush buildings under my gigantic feet." The excitement of this thought always wakes me up, and I'm always disappointed to find that I'm just normal size Rebel. It's kind of like that flying feeling you get sometimes, but far more exciting.

Right now, I am pretending to be a brain dead hermit. I'm hiding inside my house, watching movies, ignoring email, and napping to excess. This behavior is a direct result of the fact that I am facing multiple submission deadlines, and I hate submission deadlines. They stifle my creativity. They make me feel dull and stupid. Add a theme to the mix, and I'm a mess. I have a real problem with rules. I hate rules. I'm gonna try to hurry and wrap this thing up, I need a nap.

Yesterday, I was sitting on my couch, watching the Olympics and reading blogs that I was too lazy to comment on (Sorry I suck) when I saw a tiny dog out of the corner of my eye. "Hey! There's Manley!" I thought. After an additional split-second of rumination, I remembered that

A: I do not own a tiny dog.

and

B: Manley, my sister-in-law's dog, has been dead for at least eight years.

I looked at the tiny dog. "Hey there tiny dog, how are you?" (Have I mentioned my habit of having conversations with animals? Not just my pet, but all animals. If I see a deer on the side of the road, I'll lean out of my window and say "Hi, how are you today? Be careful crossing the road!" The first time Eric heard me do it, I was trying to get in the kitchen, but Manley was plopped across the floor, blocking my path. "Excuse me Manley, I need to go in the kitchen." Eric looked at me and said, "Did you just say excuse me to the dog?" I guess it's a strange habit, but I always assume the animals understand what I'm saying. I'm not sure why I believe that, seeing as I'm a thirty one year old woman, but the belief is there, and I had a conversation with a squirrel today, so what are you gonna do?")

Tiny dog that wasn't Manley sat at my feet, panting. He looked like the kind of dog that someone would name Gizmo, with a fluffy face that reminded me of a mogwai.

"Little dog, you've got to get out of my house. If Sophie sees you, he will whip your ass all over the place, and I just swept this floor."

Tiny dog allowed me to herd him back out the open door he wandered in through. He stopped by grandma's house and let Dot feed him a snack before dashing home.

I sure hope that tiny dog comes back to visit.