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I woke up at 5:30 this morning because the fat dog had effectively taken over the prime spot on the bed, and my fat (pregnant) body was halfway on the bedframe and the mattress and annoyed. But I had been dreaming about Dog Girl (she’s beautiful in case you’re wondering, I just can’t think of a good nickname for her and “Dog Girl” seems fitting because she loves her dog as much as I love mine, except for the fat one right now) and how she had started and was running a flower delivery service. We were looking for scooters with her recovering crack addict boyfriend (he exists only in the dream, in case you were wondering again) so she could deliver her flowers instead of using the postal service. I was going to give her some milk crates (as if I have any) so she can bungee cord them to her scooter.

Then I woke up, craved bacon, cursed Vanilla for being unwakeable (how’s he going to wake up and feed the baby next year???) and fell back asleep.

Then I dream my friends Fat Tony (ooh, he’ll kill me if he sees this) and Lincoln were in my kitchen. Lincoln was deep frying frozen Stouffer’s lasagna (half of the party size) and I told him I wanted bacon. Like magic, I turn around and he’s already got exactly 5 pieces of bacon in the pan. Unfortunately for him though, he’s flipping the bacon with two cake spatulas, which causes him to flinch and cry out as he is splattered by bacon grease. I save him by giving him tongs. And IN MY DREAM I try setting up Lincoln with Dog Girl only every picture I have of Dog Girl is horrible! Fat Tony says she’s “ugly” and I try to defend her but the pictures I have of her aren’t helping.

She really is beautiful, for the record.

I wake up at 7:30 and make bacon. I feel like I’ve been through a lot already this morning just to get to breakfast.



I used to think being an attorney was a tough job. Then I had kids.

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