Sunday still sucks.

I can't actually recall last Sunday now, but I'm pretty sure the general idea of me being of little to no use to anyone is alive and well. For instance, it is well-known that our dog is a lunatic. Her reaction to me being asleep involves knocking over my grandmother. On cement.

For roughly three days I have awoken to my grandmother crying, and still I fall for the idea that perhaps my mother's leg fell off during the night. But no, it is always The Puppy. Who, while covered in hair, has Nan convinced that she will freeze to death if left out in the 40° yard, where she stands like a deer in the headlights, refusing to move...until someone goes out there.

Our Woman, Holly, bless her, she didn't mess with Nan. No, Nan was her friend, Nan didn't leave her places to have parts removed, so Nan was safe with Holly. This one? All are alike to her, she will knock you over and eat you if she detects that you plan to feed her, walk her, play with her, give her a vitamin, bring her indoors, let her outside, give her a drink of water or otherwise prevent her from dying.

She fits in perfectly with this family, of course.

Sunday still sucks.