This is Victor. Mudd is exhausted and asked me to take over.
So Ruth was birdwatching, the other day, and she spotted me just as I was about to leave Pigeon Paradise.
Seeing how distraught I was, she proposed that I move in with her. What a relief that was.
I’ve been here for a week, now, and I have to say, there are good sides and bad sides to this arrangement. Don’t get me wrong, the food is GREAT: Ruth buys only the best canned stuff there is. Honest. And I get to sleep on her bed, watch Netflix on her big-screen TV, and I sort of have fun tossing around that furry ball with a bell in it.
But geez… Ruth is so organized and disciplined and controlling — she stresses me out! For instance, every day at precisely 3:15 PM:
And she gets up at 6 in the morning, meditates till 6:20, eats a banana with half a toast at 6:30, showers at 7, checks her emails at 7:30, and starts to whistle at 7:45. And goes on whistling all through the day, either stupid songs or even stupid-er bird calls.
So I have to ask myself: Is that all there is? I even asked the question on Facebook before sharing Peggy Lee’s song, because that’s what SHE wants to know too!
Don’t know if that’s all there is to life, but there’s one thing I do know: Ruth’s life isn’t the life for me. No way. I’ve got some thinking to do — I’ll keep you posted.
P.S.: Don’t forget to DANCE.