So, I quit my day job, wanting to A) Write full time, and B) sleep in.
Welcome to my morning.
5:29 a.m. Emmett, my border collie rescue, noses me to let him out for a potty break.
5:32 a.m. Emmett returns and I collapse back into bed.
5:36 a.m. Molly, my daughter’s Maltese mix, pushes open her bedroom door for her potty break.
Not my dog…I’m not moving.
Unable to open the back door by herself, Molly poops on the kitchen floor.
5:36:30 a.m. Emmett whines hysterically because he knows that indoor pooping is a major no-no.
Sadie, my other border collie rescue, lifts her head, practically rolls her eyes in disgust, and flops back down to sleep.
Tail high, Molly goes back to my daughter’s bedroom.
5:38 a.m. The smell permeates the house.
5:41 a.m. My daughter gets up and deals with the problem.
6:16 a.m. Sadie gives me the mind-control stare. She wants breakfast.
I ignore her.
She roots in my wastebasket, as all terminally starving dogs will do.
6:16:30 a.m. Emmett begins barking…loudly…because Sadie is in the wastebasket.
And he is about to die from the famine sweeping the household.
6:16:45 a.m. Molly barks hysterically because if Emmett is barking something must be terribly wrong.
I put a pillow over my head.
Emmett jumps on the bed, cries, and paws at me because Molly says there is something terribly wrong
…and I have a pillow over my head.
6:18 a.m. I stagger out of bed, put the coffee on and feed the dogs. Once again, starvation has been barely averted.
I mainline coffee and consider going back to work…