Every once in awhile, I think my brain gets tired of throwing maniacally insane natural disaster nightmares my way. And for these extra special moments it instead prefers to pull out itty bitty fluffy kitties.
Yes....me....and.....fluffy kitties.
Not a likely pair. Me and kitties, that is.
And for whatever goddamn reason I am always rescuing the little critters. And I'm not a cat person. What the hell?
This morning I decided it was a good idea to get in that last half hour of sleep after I had taken my dog out for his little morning tinkle/walk before I had to get ready and head into work (it's still dark when I go to work now, mind you, so we are talking EARLY). Well, apparently morning and REM sleep for moi just go hand-in-freakin-hand.
So here goes my brain. My friend and I are at this busy intersection, and for Lord knows what reason I have five little kittens in my vehicle. Somehow these little fluff heads get out and start running for the hills. What does this girl do? Starts raving like a lunatic trying to scoop them all up to safety away from the crazy cars flying through the intersection.
And about the time I'm about to get plowed into by a truck....BAM. I'm awake.
Fucking kitties....you're going to be the death of me.
Song of the day: "Barton Hallow" The Civil Wars
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