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The BOMB

Welcome to the BOMB.



The Blog Of the "Mother" of Bandit.
Bandit is my Hairless Chinese Crested--he's the "normal" one. I, on the other hand, am unrepentantly "pet-crazy." You know the type--the spinster who lives in the haunted house three blocks over with 72 cats...okay, so I don't have 72 cats, and my house isn't haunted--but my dogs wardrobe is better than mine! Need I say more? :~)
I've never been consistant at journaling, so the timing of my blogs will be sporadic at best. I just hope they are as entertaining to you as they are to me; however, be forewarned: Most of my blogs will be about The BaldOne. In spite of his Don King "do," I think he's just as cute as any of the Brothers B!
Now, if I can just remember not to get him wet--or feed him after midnight...

About Me

My photo
My bags are packed and I'm always ready to seek out an adventure with Bandit and Moggy in tow. Bandit is my ten year old Chinese Crested, who I frequently call The Bald One or The BaldOne Boy (like he was one of the Baldwin Brothers). Moggy’s full name is Pip-Moggy. He’s my gansta-resuce kitty. I couldn’t decide between Pip (which are the spots on die and domino tiles) and Moggy (or Moggie when I mistakenly thought he was a she), so I combined the two. Moggy refers to the British term for "cat of unknown parentage .” So in essence, I have an almost bald dog, and I’ve named my cat “Spot.”

Fun Stuff (I'm doing now or have done)

  • Artistic Attempts weekly (alternating between Painting With A Twist, That Art Place, and Peniot's Palette).
  • Bunko with the Belton Bunko Babes monthly.
  • Participating in the A to Z Blogging Challenge.
  • Spades and Liverpool Rummy with the Spadetts weekly.
  • The Mighty Texas Dog Walk, Austin (fund raiser for Service Dogs, Inc--they train shelter dogs to be Service Dogs, then give them free of charge to people with disabilities.)

Monday, November 14, 2016

Forgetful, That's What I'll Always Be

Nat King Cole is singin' in my head...

This morning, I as I passed Shipley's I considered stopping for a kolatche since there wasn't a line. I never have time in the mornings.

In the parking lot at work, I scored a decent parking place. And didn't get distracted by anything, so I actually made it to my first meeting a tad bit early--Monday mornings I'm never ready to start the week, and am historically later than usual. Not because I'm not there--I just lose track of time. I've never been a clock-watcher.

We talked about the Cowboys win over Pittsburg. And UMHB ranking #1 in D3.

And it was announced that the meeting would start at 7:35 that morning.

And then my Supervisor looked at me and said, "I thought you were taking the  morning off?"

Yes!  I am! I have a mid-morning much needed right-knee injection. I wasn't going to come in for an hour then leave, only to return after lunch.

The really sad thing?

It's on my phone as an appointment and and alert.

What's sadder?  This morning I remembered I need to find my appointment schedule so I can request time off on Friday for my iron infusion.

But the saddest thing?

As I walked into a building a coworker and I talked about loving the cooler weather, but my knees (his back) giving us grief over the cool.  He even mentioned his back injections and as our path parted I thought about my own injections  (I no longer need them in my back, but my knees are a different matter).

And STILL I did not recall my injection appointment. Even  as I hobbled onto the elevator.

So much for sleeping in and having a leisurely breakfast as I try to wake up for the new work week.

I guess it could be worse--at least Nat is serenading me.

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