Saturday, February 19, 2005

Always Imagine the Worst.

Pidgeons are on the windowsill, taunting Nigel to no end. He doesn't meow at them as much as sort of put forth a staccato mewl, all the while wiggling his whiskers. And he moves his head back and forth frantically, but only in very small concise's a sight to see. There are quite a few birds outside today, judging by their shadows which are projected on the wall directly to the right of my desk. He is going to be putting in some major bird watching time on his fleece lambskin perch today, I can feel it.

Today The Ghost was home while I was wandering around talking to myself. She usually isn't by this time on a Saturday so I assumed I could mumble freely. Oh well.

My adorable German co-worker shared a bag of Newman's Own microwave popcorn with me yesterday. When I told her I was going to pop it in the microwave, she was excited and wanted to see it as she hadn't before. She stood peering through the glass door of the microwave, hands crossed over her chest. She asked if we would hear the beg of popcorn make popping sounds, and I said yes, but it took about a minute for them to begin. The bag suddenly inflated, and lots of exploding noises began to issue forth. And then she said, simply, "It is brilliant", turned and walked back to her desk.

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