The secret of life is knowing when not to talk

 

On my day off, it’s my Sunday, I loaded up my work computer and almost took my birthday off. But then I thought, having off on your birthday is for pussies. So I shut everything down and ate cinnamon buttered toast.

 

 

I had to listen to Do Me, Baby by Prince several times before I felt normal again. The dew point was up to 70 degrees and heat index at 99 F degrees. Days before I become another year older.

Pipi was somewhat sick, although acting perfectly happy and normal. She had loose stool and then I thought I saw red in it. Like blood. It was just the strawberry she ate yesterday straight from the vine in the garden. Right?! Don’t fuck with my dog. Especially the yellow one. Anyway. She ate rice and was drooling some after she had dinner. Squatting frequently but nothing coming out. She’s in her crate under the ceiling fan on high. I’m alone in the room with her for the third night in a row due to an uncontrollable cough I have. The internet is down. There was a wind storm that rolled through and now no internet.