19 November 2008

Where the Hell is my Car.

Actually, despite the title of the post, I know where my car is -- it's in the parking lot here at work, not on the street outside my house, where I looked for it this morning and it wasn't there cause I forgot to get dropped off back at the garage last night, and just went home.

So I got a ride to work today.

That's sort of emblematic of life these days -- I'm happy, I'm cheerful, I'm getting my work done, but I don't necessarily know where my car is.

Luckily the break comes after Friday -- we'll be in Albuquerque, where I'll be blogging my efforts to find food that doesn't stop my breathing -- and then there's only a week and a half of classes.

So things are going to get easier soon.

After that, we'll be figuring out how to save the new tree skirt from the dogs. Made of felt, with stuffed ornaments and sequins all over it, it's obviously a Dog Toy. Especially if you're the sort of dog that thinks that pillows and bedroom slippers are Dog Toys. We're going to need to tie the tree down -- essentially a Giant Stick, it also is a Dog Toy -- and barricade it off. Save the Christmas tree! Save the tree skirt! Save the presents!

It's going to be lots of fun.

5 comments:

Scott said...

Corgi job prospect?

Pandora said...

Ha!

Very Funny.

Indeed, the house looks just like this, quite often.

Stoy said...

The mental picture of Rhys dragging a Christmas tree about is very amusing. If it is a real tree, would the sap deter him from chewing on it? (I know, this is wishful thinking, I'm sure.)

Pandora said...

No. He thinks sap is gum. Spiky evergreen leaves would be merely the proof that the tree needed conquering. Which he would then do. He has torn out several large bushes in the back yard. With his teeth.

He's like a Rottweiler with tiny legs.

Amy said...

Don't forget the ornaments! After three Christmases with us, my pup still thinks anything on the lower half of our tree is hers for the taking.