My close friends will testify that I pull disappearing acts from time to time, but eventually come back up for air. Well, this may just be such an attempt. Much has happened since my last update.
My testosterone-laden feline, Bonaparte, passed away last week just a couple days shy of his birthday. And while I miss him, it must be some shindig for all the girl cats in my area while he chases his tail around in circles somewhere beyond the rainbow. Not wanting to spoil their fun or anything, but what part of meow don't these beings get?
Today I got away with fooling a bunch of clinicians long enough for them to think my presentation was superb. One down, three more to go.
I'm looking at my notes for the up and coming prep course. Most of it is in code. It's going to take me a few days just to weed through and decipher all of these. It's a good thing I have until Wednesday to unravel this mystery. Okay, I'm stressing out about an exam. I need some really loud music to play air guitar to. Thanks to MN's Metallica CD, now I too can go bonkers.
I've just noticed how one of my colleagues insists on speaking to me in an accent especially formulated for me. I know this because I've heard him speak to others in English and it's not the same. My personal favorite is when I ask him to do something for me and he responds with a "I canhot [sic]!" Of course I'm inclined to request absurd things just so I can hear him say it over and over again. Something about repetition that's just always amusing to me.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
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1 comment:
R.I.P., the whiskered Bonaparte!
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