My Little Golden Book of Phobias

I've been sitting all day in my scrubs waiting for a lady to go into active labor. Sigh. It's taking a while. My clerk at PCC, Remy, is expecting twin boys. Rather, his wife is. I told him I was waiting for a momma in labor and he gave me a chocolate bar to give to the mom. He wrote SAMPLE on it. So if you go to your local coop and write SAMPLE on some grapes or a bottle of wine or some dish soap, you can just walk out without paying. At least, I think you can.

Our Felix had his, uh, surgery. The vet said we had to keep him quiet for 10 DAYS. He is still a puppy and bored out of his head. No stairs? Right. No chasing the katz? YOU keep him from chasing the katz. So he is crazy with inactivity. I can't really explain how wild he is. He throws toys in the air all by himself if we won't. He doesn't run down the stairs, it's a sort of controlled fall/slide thing.

Only four more days to go. Until he can run after a ball. Or run across the grass. He's a toddler in a cage. On uppers.

Tomorrow is the day. Except for absentee ballots. And the Eastern seaboard. And other acts of the Lawd.

Surrender Dorothy.