Yesterday the world was against me.
I couldn't find the bank I was looking for because someone who shall not be named (but who I live with) said it was on 17th Street when it was really on 18th and I was too hormonaly frustrated to just ask anyone. Then the teller took foreeever, then my monthly "friend" started banging on my uterine wall to be let in, and then I got really hot walking home and then and then...
Needless to say when I stomped through the door of my condo 45 minutes later I was not to be fucked with. Poised to rip my refrigerator door off its stainless steel hinges just to show something who was really boss up in this piece, I heard the familiar click click clicking of my very own Jiminy Cricket bounding in to greet me.
My pug Miles is the epitome of cuteness. And no matter how pissed off living on the outside might make me, his boundless optimism in the face of anything but my Swiffer (seriously, for some reason that thing freaks him the freak out) Febreezes away my stank attitude in the time it takes to go, "Awwwww."
I was so pissed off for no reason the other day that I could hardly type a word but then this happened:
I mean how can you NOT calm down when this little guy -- somehow sensing your tenseness -- drags his "blanky" into your home office and then sets up shop in an old duffle bag? I died. Sometimes all you need a little cute in your life to smooth away the lines giving the stank face can leave before they're permanent.
Currently, Miles' hilarious penchant for making a bed out of absolutely anything laying around on the floor is getting me through a particularly tough week of rejiggering my work life. I imagine the joy I get from glancing over at some stinky basketball shorts Miles is using as a pillow is like 0.0009 percent of what Emily gets from her bebe's tiny hands, but I'll take the cute however I can get it. And because I'm no Stingy Benji, I'm sharing with you all.
Sleeping his troubles away on a pile of clean laundry
What turns your frown upside down?