Rumors of my death have been highly exaggerated.

So I heard scratching on my door this morning, along with the sound of distant thunder. I love it when it rains outside(as opposed to raining inside--carpets are hard to wet-vac), but I couldn't really translate my joy at the pleasant weather because I was too busy trying to interpret the scratchy-door sounds and the text chime on my suddenly-lit phone. My cats were looking at me as if to say, "You want I should take care of all dis noise, boss?"
The text was from Corrie, something along the lines of "See about bringing Mollie inside. It looks like it might storm." I looked outside. The ground was soaking wet with deep puddles. Oops.
Then I opened the door, and in scrambled Buddy. There was also a puddle on the carpet just outside my room. Did I mention that Buddy is deathly afraid of thunderstorms? If anyone knows where the Resolve is, could you text me the location?
Mollie was indeed in the back yard, feeling incredibly sorry for herself. Never mind that she was probably about to self-immolate for want to get outside when Corrie went to work.
"Come on, Mollie! Come inside---AGH MUD BAD! *toweltoweltowel* NO MOLLIE YOU'RE NOT CLEAN YET COME BACK! Ugh! At least you stayed on the freaking tile. Poor thing, you must have-aaaaaaaand there's the mandatory wet dog shake. All over me. Im going back to bed."
Whereupon Buddie demanded to get in bed with me and proceeded to walk back and forth across my face. I've given up trying to get more than six hours of sleep in a night.

For those of you who were so kind as to notify me of the gap in bloggage, I would like to point out that Scarborough Faire has been going on, and I've been quite busy running around like the little nerd that I am. Hopefully now that it is over I can catch up on little frivolities like showering and laundry.

The teachers are about to be done with class for the summer. I can't picture getting a three month vacation every year. Not that they haven't earned it, but it just blows my mind. I don't know what I would DO with three months off work. Those are the times in life where you start to wonder strange things, like "What would the dog look like shaved?" and "Do I really NEED to wear clothing?"
In case those questions come up during the ensuing summer months, I am going to answer, absoutely, emphatically, YES, clothing is a necessary part of the daily routine. Please.

Also, that of which we do not speak has finally occurred. Laura moved the last of her posessions out of the POC today. I saw her new apartment last night, and met her new roomie. The place is cool, and the roomie is cooler. I warned her about some of Laura's stranger habits, like her shrunken head collection and her penchant for dressing up like a wildebeest and playing beer-pong when no one is around.
We'll miss you, Laura. A bunch. Please come visit us! A bunch!
Soon to come: A POC Rosetta Stone-Crack the code and find out just what the heck we're talking about!
Also coming soon: A POC room catalogue-complete with floor map to guide bewildered guests.

Im gonna go wash my hair now kthxbai.