This morning started out with a bang – The Project From Hell has yet another wrinkle. I won’t bore you with the details, but let’s just say that this project is turning out to be even more painful than growing out a perm.
Yeah, you knew me in eighth grade. I had the trifecta of awkward – glasses, braces and a perm that wouldn’t die. You know you think I’m hot.
Anyway, this morning started out with me crying. Over work. Yes. Because I am that big of an idiot. And when you’re crying over something stupid and you realize it, it just makes you cry more because you know you’re stupid. It’s a vicious cycle.
So, I pulled my shit together and got ready to face the day.
And then Foxie Doxie performed his Dance of Destruction, in which he runs from bed to couch and back again, all at alarming Foxie Doxie speed. Those short little legs really go.
Except on the second lap of Dance of Destruction, he skipped the bed and instead landed on my lap. As I was sitting on the toilet.
He burrowed his silky little head into my armpit and I knew it was going to be a good day.