The Struggle is Real

Greetings to all of yoo who are still reeling from the aftermath of Monday. My best intentions to banish the Cujo of weekdays and replace it with Funday has sadly failed. 

Even my nemesis Wabbit tried his best to send the M-day packing, but it came back like an unscrupulous snollygoster who just won't go away.

Go ahead and Google that word. I'll wait.

Anyway, this morning at precisely one second after midnight, Tuesday safely arrived, so yoo can all simmer down and catch yoor breaths. There's no use worrying about the inevitable until Sunday anyway.

By now I had hoped to report the completion of the novel my momma is working on, but sadly she continues to struggle to find quiet time to allow her brain to function where words flow into sentences and sentences flow into paragraphs that actually make sense. I fear the struggle is real, especially when a certain AssWabbit has his floofy foot in her back and spends his days pressuring her to work.

The book is entitled The Diary of an AssRabbit, so of course the subject matter has a keen interest in seeing his story unfold in a timely manner. 

However, contrary to what I have told him in memo form -- I refuse to meet with him in purrson due to the restraining order I filed a few months ago -- Wabbit doesn't seem to understand that the chaos he stirs up among our fur sibs requires Mom to disconnect from her work to go deal with him.

And as Mom has Attenshun Deffy Sit DisOdor, every time she disconnects from her work, it takes about twenty minutes for her to reconnect to where she was at the time of disconnection.

She has told me in confidence that not only is Wabbit a distraction, but also Daddy is a distraction, and sometimes my fursibs are distractions all in their own unique ways. But by far Wabbit is Numpurr One.

Purrsonally I think he's a big ol' Numpurr Two (giggles behind paws) but that's just my opinion.

Anyway, it is my heartfelt wish that you survive whatever chaos this week has planned for you.