Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Indulgence, redefined, and retribution

These days staying at work 20 minutes later than usual in order to work a teeny tiny widgy inconsequential bit on MyDamnBook (for which I have a deadline with my writing buddy next week) is an indulgence.

Hardie, he of the easily upset stomach, vomits if his dinner is late.  And 20 minutes later than usual is too late.
Retribution in the form of a welcome-puddle of canine stomach acid dotted with small chunks of paper from a source as yet to be discovered.

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