Cydniey Buffers (cydniey) wrote,
Cydniey Buffers

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poor doc

i think i'll write a song about doc. he's trapped between two women of completely different brands of crazy. in a houseful of cats and a dog that hates him. heh. poor doc, i say it again. work must be his only respite. and sleep, no, because the dog woke him up last night.

i went out to the garage to smoke, where i've been smoking since the wind picked up, and when i came in, a sleepy milo flipped out on me. ten at night and he starts barking and won't be shut up until he sees me. meanwhile, i have doors to shut and open and lights to turn off and really have no idea that i'm the problem.

a moment later, doc appears next to me and says, "What's up?" and i tell him that i'm making coffee for him, go back to bed. and he says, "No, the woof woof woof," and i start laughing and told him it was my bad, i forgot we had a guard dog now. and then told him what happened. satisfied, he went back to bed for another two hours.

speaking of woof woof woof. there's milo now. being led out by a sleep walking Red. she's so funny.

the Walking Red, hehehehe. okay, i shouldn't make fun. i sleep walk, too.

back to the poetry gathering today. i took a couple of days off because i work so hard, heh.

i'm out of cymbalta, so i don't think i'll be reading any of them. i have to set one day aside where i read each one and title them. i think maybe i'll be drunk that day. i have a couple bottles of champagne the boys gave me before they left. really nice, brut. none of that asti spumante stuff. though i likes my asti. there is a time and a place. but i'm thinking that titling my poetry calls for real champers.

maybe that's why my writing sucks now. i don't drink enough. heh. i think i have to tweet that.

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