Maybe if I get this one in early, I won’t miss two months.
I’ll forewarn you, Dear Journal, that this is going to be a rather mundane entry. I’m not doing deep thoughts, currently. I’m pretty tired. Puppies take a lot out of you. Especially when her sole goal seems to be to have diarrhea the moment I stop watching her. It’s not any fun unless you get to step in it and get it all over everything, right?
I think the above is why God makes puppies so cute.
Chloe: “I pooped. Sowwy. I wuv you. Don’t be mad. Look. Chewing mulch. Noms. Oh, a fly. I can catch it if I jump. Can I eat again yet? Who pooped? Gross!”
Next time I almost poop my pants at a bar, I’m going to pull out the puppy moves.
I’m super proud of my brother, Mike. He’s officially a rocket scientist now. Now Mark just needs to finish his movement science stuff up, and Morgan needs become a pro at acting/deception. Then, we can create an in-house family evil flying robot spy ninja. Vertical integration, yo. Charlie will love it.
They shuffled me to a new position at work. Basically from gas to diesel engine controllers. It’s a great chance to learn a slightly different design, so I’m happy. It’s not really a promotion. A side-motion. No extra pay, but could lead to good things. More experience is always good. No dog tie-in, here. Sowwy.
Did it work? Ah well… there’s always next month…