Last time I wrote it had been a year, and that was back in 2011. So that happened.
Awesome. Anyway, in a sudden burst of brilliance and creativity, I realized that re-starting this blog would be an excellent spout for my never-ending dog blabber, as well a decent form of procrastination as I feverishly avoid studying for the GMAT. Also, I think my co-workers are sick of assuming I'm speaking about friends, only to find out moments later that "Larry" is just an extremely affable beagle that I happen to run into from time to time. I remember the first time I spoke for several minutes about my God-daughter, the way my colleague's face suddenly twisted into a horrified frown when I fondly mentioned Peaches' searing underbite. My God-daughter, as you may have guessed, is an English bulldog, as wrinkly as they come.
Want to see a picture? Of course you do. Here she is, in all her smushy glory:
If it's not blatantly obvious why I'm obsessed with her, then you haven't been paying attention. She was even more of a gem when she went through her awkward stage, her teeth jutting straight out instead of wrapping flush around her top lip, her head too circular to fit her bulldog face. And her fragrance -- well, her mother described it as "a foot with parmesan cheese on it." Delightful didn't even begin to cover the sensation of sharing a room with her on a hot day.
But now she's developed into a lovely young woman, and I'd like to think that I've evolved as well. My dream now is to work for a canine-centric organization (think BarkBox). Don't know what it is? Think Birch Box for dogs. If you're not excited now, then kindly leave my site.
In the meantime, I'm very happy at my current job as a Financial Assistant at a top-level institution of higher education (snooty, much?) No, but really -- I love my job, and naturally I've mapped out the entire building for dogs. You'll see lots of pictures of Otis, another doughy young English bulldog who works in my building. People always crack jokes when I say he's a dog who works in my building, but I don't understand why. The man's got to make a living somehow.
Anyway, ta for now! Back to re-teaching myself middle school math and erasing any shred of confidence I've accrued over my 23 years in a single set of practice questions.