Sometimes I think there is nothing left to write about and then something like this happens.
The cat threw up on my bed. My bed in Chicago is in a room without a light switch so I went to bed in complete darkness and therefore did not notice the throw up until I had already stepped, sat and knelt in it. And then I wiped some of it off my heel and smelled my finger. "Not poop," I thought to myself with some relief. And then I went to sleep.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
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