When Weasels Attack

Good day

This morning was chugging along beautifully. I woke up 9 minutes ’til yoga and freaking MADE IT because I can do that now. The sun was shining through my grapes (that’s a sign of a good morning, right?), the internet I’m stealing this week is coming in strong and the French press was doing what it does.

Sunny grapes

I'm a little French press

I took a shower, pretended not to see the mystery bug on the bath mat and gave So Damn Good some lovin’ because it’s been neglected throughout the move. (Y’all know I play the tumblr game, right? It’s just pictures of food from Sweet Tater. Do it.)

There I was minding my own business and trying to see how long I can wait to leave for class…

And then… then Weaz was like SUCK IT KATIE. And did this with my iced coffee:


The little chunkies (if you can see them) are almond pulp from the homemade almond milk. I actually don’t notice any grit when I’m drinking but apparently when it’s sprawled out on a black table it because evident that there is, in fact, grit in my milk.

It’s ok though. Ralphie’s sitting next to me–butt lump and all–trying to console me. She offered to make more coffee but I told her to keep her fuzzy butt OUT of the kitchen this year.

That goes for you, too, WEAZ.

3 thoughts on “When Weasels Attack

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