Thursday

Dissertation Defense is NIGH

I did these when I was about to defend my dissertation. It sums up quite nicely how I felt at the time. 






Aaaand squish.
The end.

Dear Cat,
I'm pretty sure that you can read because sometimes when I get home, all my books have been moved.

I'm even fairly certain you know my computer passcode, so I'll just leave my laptop open tomorrow and hope that you get this.


Just one request. It's quick. Please don't kill me.

This is a rough sketch of a bed (and no I don't know why it's gray right now, blogger is messing with me and I don't want to draw it again):


I am so freaking talented, omg.

I am using it to represent my bed, in fact. I know you know about my bed because you find me in it every night. 


oh hai! 

The problem is that you seem to think that nighttime is a good time to effectively marathon-style run your ass all over the bed, and me, and Cptn Awesomepants, and me again, and him again, and me one more time before taking a breather, because boy that shit is probably tiring. 

Bounce, bounce, bounce. Pause, lick something, lick something really relentlessly hard in a creepy way, bounce, knead, breathe on something, pause, place COLD WET nose on something that was previously asleep, bounce, run away from the devil that has clearly just found you.
Repeat. 

Because 3am. It's when the magic happens. 




I'm just putting in a request for you to, you know, slow it down a bit. Maybe even take a few nights or months off. 

I left instructions by the television in case you get bored. Also, I preloaded Kiki's Delivery Service because you liked that one. 

Hugs, 
Your Owner (I'm the blonde one, that puts your poo in plastic bags. It's because I love you.)