I CONFESS
In the morning, Mon-Fri, there are three things that happen to signal that it's time to get up at a little after 6am. First, the litter robots cycle. Neil has them off during the night so it doesn't wake us up. Then, the hallway light turns on. THEN. The alarm goes off (which is really set to a Mexican music station and starts off very very quiet and slowly gets louder until you turn it off). Despite this. And despite this being the routine, oh say, over a year... MiSu will still get frustrated that I am not up and feeding her at 4am. Every day. I have never gotten up at 4am to feed her. She will crawl over me, snuggle next to my face, paw at my face, lick my face... my eyeballs... crying, and singing, and whining, and nudging, and invasive licking. How can something so irritating also be so cute.
I CONFESS
There was a line spoken in one of my dreams in reference to a chemical component that we were carrying over to a chemistry lab "hurry up, let's deal with this eight pounds of death" and I responded "that's our new band name" you know, like how people go "that's the name of my/your sex tape" as a joke, and in my dream, this was so hilarious to me. Eight Pounds of Death. But really, in what chemical setting are you really dealing with POUNDS of stuff, lols. No metric system in my dream world apparently.
I CONFESS
I always find videos about my city amusing, this one is comedian Bill Burr doing a quick tour. Not my favorite comedian, he can be too sexist and negative for me, but I will make an exception to see/hear an outsider's view on my hometown, ha.
