Heigh-Fucking-Ho

Got the come-back phone call yesterday while out for a three-and-a-half-hour hike so I sort of get it but still

We are meeting to discuss it today. Expectations are that I will go in three days a week in which case I will be miserable and sad not to mention the way poor little Daisy will feel but you can be sure I’m going to hide the julips just in case because even without opposable thumbs she’s pretty crafty.

Fitbit says I had plenty of sleep last night but it was between mostly lame ideas/excuses that could keep me home, Daisy being only one of a long list including Taco, the lizard I don’t have, who requires feeding at noon daily or certain death.

Also the parrot I don’t have, Loopy, who goes batshit without me

A few of my REAL reasons are as follows:

I will miss my fridge

I haven’t finished novel number two quite yet

I have outgrown all my work-appropriate attire (fuck off)

Who’s going to take over my pretend bakery business which I am thinking of calling Fuck It Let’s Eat

No fucking shoes

I have a moustache

Who’s going to monitor the forest?

Yoga with Adriene

I am startled-looking due to new bangs (self-inflicted)

and also I will miss my fridge

But I am an unfailing optimist and will propose one happy little Heigh-Ho Heigh-Ho day a week and I’ll be sincerely cheerful and look at it as an opportunity to collect fodder for this blog what with the GO trains and weird work people and my critical eye for what everybody’s wearing and trends in general and I like the hardware store on Dufferin and what’s for lunch.

I’ll let you know how it goes…

And another invitation to read my quick hugely satisfying fiction bombs at The Story Parade