Odd Trundles is not taking his morning nap on my bed. Instead, he’s snoring right under my chair, occasionally letting loose a wall of eye-watering stench. I’d ask what the hell he’s eaten, but I don’t think I’d like the answer, and it’s academic anyway. I’ll just note that this morning he scuttled all over the yard in Miss B’s wake as she did her best to herd Squirrel!Josephine. For once, I was wearing shoes, and I didn’t feel any need to scream. Mostly because Josephine, unlike Squirrel!Napoleon, is very capable of taking care of herself, and looks FUCKING FABULOUS DOING IT, THANK YOU, as she so often reminds us all, twitching her tail and screeching at Odd’s bumbling, blustery self from a safe height.
I should write the last half of the squirrel Amourous Interrupte, I really should.
Anyway, the world goes on much as it ever has. I’m hip-deep in Gallow revisions, and nursing some muscle soreness from slowly stretching my run mileage. Stretching and fluids are called for today. Also, maybe, opening a window so I don’t pass out. Bulldogs swallow a lot of air. Right now I’m just thanking my stars Odd has a cast-iron digestive system. In other words, he may be foul, but at least he’s not…dribbling.
I also have audiobook auditions to go through, and more Storium correspondence, and and and, so I’d better get back to work. See you around.