I'm a prisoner in my own home!

I am currently stuck at my dining room table and I can't get up. 

Do they make emergency alert necklaces for that? 

I mean, I'm not hurt or anything.  I still have full function of all my limbs.  I'm completely conscious, alert and oriented.  I haven't impaled myself to the chair with a fork.

This is actually why I can't get up.



Every time I sit down at the dining room table, Atticus curls up at my feet and snoozes.  It's absolutely adorable.  He rests his little head on the foot of the table and lays his fat little body across my feet. 

I should probably be disciplining him or something, but it's so damn cute. 

 Could you disturb that sweet little face?  Yeah.  I didn't think so. 

I'm actually surprised he can sleep at all, with my incessant picture taking.  I can't resist.  I am a sucker for an adorable dog.  Well, for any dog.  It's my weakness. 

Well, that and chocolate.  And ice cream.  Also, bacon.  And the word 'bogo'. 

Sheesh, Mom.  You are such a softie.  Why don't you just put the camera down and go bring me your favorite bra to snack on so I don't have to get up. 

I'm not that gullible.  And, yes 'gullible' is in the dictionary.  If it wasn't, I would've had to use a different word because I totally forgot how to spell it. 

I feel like I should be doing something...

OH SHIT!  My water is boiling over! 

In addition to forgetting how to spell, apparently I also forget starting a meal.  Maybe I really do need an emergency alert necklace.  Clearly, I am a disaster waiting to happen. 

Forgive me for ending this riveting post so soon.  I must attend to my pasta.  This means disrupting the pup.

Something tells me he'll survive the trauma.