|AH, TO BE ABLE TO CHILL LIKE DUDO.|
(ANOTHER MUTILATED [FAKE] MOUSE AT HIS FEET.)
I went to bed content and ready for a good night's sleep. When I woke up Friday morning, it was from a dream that felt like it went on for hours but probably lasted two minutes. I tend to get bored when people relate their dreams to me. So, I won't bore you with the details of mine. It clearly related to my last employers (who sucked) and it ended with my saying, "I'm just a waste of space." Then I woke up.
No need to analyze; it was all pretty obvious (and maybe it was caused by the Ibuprofen I took before I went to bed). Whatever the reason, I woke up feeling exactly like said waste of space and the feeling remained for most of the day. San Geraldo lived up to his saintly designation. But, despite his best efforts (and mine), I finally had a full-out panic attack in the afternoon. I took a pill. I went to bed for a while. The evening was subdued and by nightfall I was back to happy. I even cooked a little surprise treat for us both.
|I SERVED THIS LITTLE HOME-COOKED SNACK AS A SURPRISE FOR SAN GERALDO.|
(HE WAS UNDERSTANDABLY IMPRESSED.)
Saturday morning, all was well in my little world once again. I bought shelf organizers for the pantry and I organized. No wasted space here!