My cellphone speaks to me in a British accent and it thinks that I am drunk. This morning, Buddha was left behind from our usual coffee outing because that dog has a fear of doors (among other things) and when he refused to get in to the car (TOO MANY DOORS NOT OPEN FAR ENOUGH!), I just turned him around and put him back in the house. Of course, this confounded him. Why was Stella getting to go for coffee and he was being behind? Don't I understand that there were DOORS that might magically CLOSE ON HIM?!
I did. I did understand. That is why he was put back in the house. To protect him from all the doors in the Universe.
Then my professor started texting me. While I was driving. A dangerous thing to do. We are not supposed to text and drive. I know this. Of course, I know this. I'm not even supposed to really be driving at all. So the phone is speaking to me like Eddie Izzard and I'm speaking back only because I did not want my professor to think I was ignoring him or dead on the side of the road because, well, there was snow falling from the skies and, you know, driving! The newfangled technology that allows us to speak while driving and have it send the texts? Wow. Only, obviously, my British phone does not understand my non-British from somewhere on the East Coast has lived on the West Coast strange little girl accent. At all!
Monkey Purse Half Llama Parts. That, my friends, is what is keeping love alive in all the best relationships.
In other news, I just found out that I'm anemic and need more B12. The girl who eats beets for breakfast, lunch and dinner. The professor says I need to start eating STEAK.
I hope that's not what the doctor says because that would be a total bitch.