Personal Life

Miss Sugar in the middle of an obviously caved-in bed, atop a white comforter, looking miserable.

Miss Sugar’s Moving Diary – Entry #3

There is nothing left in this house except the things that belong to me. My scratching post that looks like a bent toilet brush, my basket of toys and brushes. Best of all, my fuzzy, puffy pouf and of course, my food. I must face the fact that we are camping now. The furniture upon which I leave my fur is now but a memory. These humans cannot be reasoned with. Take note of my facial expression. This air mattress has no give!

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artsy shot of half a wall clock

Decisions, Decisions

I’ve written about decisions a time or two because I find them fascinating. A boss I once had refused to make any decisions. He was so worried about making the wrong one, he made none. From him, I learned it’s better to decide on something and perhaps change your mind later, than to not decide at all and leave everybody around you wanting to pummel you with a wiffle bat.

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