This past Saturday my dear friend Krystle had a freaking huge charity auction.
It was black tie, and I needed something to wear.
Naturally I waited until the last minute to see if I could fit into my dress. But before I tried I also realized that I didn't have shoes, jewelery or the proper undergarments to force me into the dress if needed. So the day before (that would be Friday for those of you unable to count backwards) I had to work.
So, I bought the following on trial basis: 2 pairs of shoes, 3 pairs of earrings and 2 pieces of undergarments.
I didn't fit into the dress.
My hair wasn't up to par.
My life was in shambles.
Thankfully I recovered last minute and found another dress I owned, in which I already owned shoes, earrings and undergarments.
I looked ravishing.
I went to the event. Bid on a few things only to be promptly outbid. I had a great time. Krystle is worth millions and everyone should want her to organize their charity auction.
Krystle, her boy Chris and myself all went out afterwards in celebration of an event done well, and I stayed the night at her fabulous townhouse.
I come home the next day around noon, disheveled and sleepy only to see my front door wide open. Wide.
Barely get the car parked and run to the house. I see cat #1 (Igby- please reference the previous post... he's a mighty bird hunter) run into the house. I know he's safe. But I also know that cat #2 loves to run outside and I'm sure she's gone.
I quickly see that my TV is there. That's a good sign right? So I check of thief. I run back out the door and start my frantic search for my little cat who is terrified of birds and loves plastic balls.
I call mom. Make her frantic. I check the garbage area. I'm calling for a cat. I walk back to my house and mom decides to come help me in my search.
As soon as I open the door, Zeda comes waltzing down the stairs.
I was almost mad that she made me frantic like that. And when I was so sleepy. I almost blame her for opening the door.
That night I fed the cats some yummy canned cat food for not running away and guarding the house.
Igby threw up and I just got the smell out.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Its actually your fault he threw up. All you negative energy, running around like a madwoman upset his tummy. You should have KNOWN they would stay where there is love, comfort and little round balls with bells inside to play with.
Post a Comment