Books 486-490

Oh.
Wow.

This book's title
describes,
very aptly,
my current state of mind.



Minus the tense,
that is.
My mind is currently in pieces.

Today was a long day.

I had a doctor's appointment.
I kind-of-sort-of passed that test.
The verdict hasn't really come in on that one.

Phebe had a vet appointment.
She passed her test with flying colors.
She even purred during the car rides
there and back.

All of these appointments
have made this post late.
So you can blame them.
Or not.
Phebe was very cute.

(Who am I kidding?
She still is.
I have to say that, though.
She's watching me work.)

Hmmm.


No.
I give this book a no.
I will probably not read this one.
Awkward title.
Awkward author name font larger than the title.
Also,
it's not always a compliment to be called
"in a class of [your] own."
Just saying.

So,
in other news,
let's take a quick tally.

Anyone else have their
Facebook news feed
blow up with posts about
Osama's death
and Obama having better things to do
than give out his birth certificate out?

Really?
That many of you?
Wow.

Well.
Guess what.


Mr. Trudeau just blew up
Books On My Parents' Shelves.

I'm beginning to think he might be psychic.
Maybe.

Or he just has really good timing...
er, placement on our shelves.

Huh.


Are those Siamese twins in the window?

Also:
Nope.
Normally when I dream,
I don't dream of sleeping.
That sounds a little boring.
Oh!
Don't you hate it when
you dream about all of the nonsense
you have to do the next day?
Then when you get up
you have to go through all of it
all over again,
only without the power of flight
or the ability to breathe underwater.
That sucks.

And yes,
Mr. Trudeau.
Thanks.


You are psychic,
after all.
That title was the perfect end
to that non sequitur of mine.

Can we be psychic friends?
I promise I'll practice on my psychic skills.
Get back to me on that one.

Kay, thanks, bye.