Today I did two things that are COMPLETELY out of character for me.
1. Rescued a dog during my lunch break. So the night before, I had noticed this dog walking outside of my house (not "noticed" so much as "happened to see when my own giant dog nearly pulled my arm out of it's socket when he attempted to chase it will still on his leash, which was wrapped around my hand, which was attached to said arm"), but I thought it maybe belonged to my crazy neighbors down the street. But today on my break, I pulled into the driveway and the dog was still hanging outside of my house. When I got out of the car, it tried to follow me to the door (the thing was LIMPING for Christ's sake). Now, I went through a very serious Annie phase as a child. Three year old Jenn knew the movie by heart and would constantly wear a curly red wig over her straight black hair, resulting in an impressive marriage of mullet and geri curl and ensuring that her parents existed in a state of perpetual embarrassment (this reached it's pinnacle when I went into my preschool class and announced that "I don't have a Daddy, I'm an orphan like Annie" after my dad had been living part-time in Texas for a few months while working on a big case-see, my hyperbolic nature is nothing new). So I was raised to believe that when a stray dog follows you home, you have to care for it and also sing it Broadway tunes.
Anyway, I didn't know what to do. Then my own aforementioned giant dog came bounding out of the house, scaring the crap out of the little, scared, shivering dog again, who hobbled across the street. So what do I do? I went over to it and...picked it up. As in touched the stray, dirty dog with my own hands, carrying it in my arms into my garage where I gave him water and dog food. I know what you're thinking, but seriously, I weighed my options and decided that I'd rather risk rabies than live with the guilt that I'd have if I left the scared, injured animal outside during the alleged snow storm that the meteorologists totally lied about. The best part was that because my dog is the only animal I've ever liked in 23 years and he is 90 pounds, I've never actually carried a dog around before. I held it like a baby. A dirty, shivering baby with clumps of fur falling off of it from stress.
So I drove around the neighborhood, discovered a missing dog flier with this animal's picture on it, thanked God a couple of times for letting this be someone's pet and not some crazy wild animal that I picked up outside and carried into my home, called the number and returned the dog. Is this not the most ridiculous lunch break of my life? I am a hero! I have some serious good karma coming my way.
1. Rescued a dog during my lunch break. So the night before, I had noticed this dog walking outside of my house (not "noticed" so much as "happened to see when my own giant dog nearly pulled my arm out of it's socket when he attempted to chase it will still on his leash, which was wrapped around my hand, which was attached to said arm"), but I thought it maybe belonged to my crazy neighbors down the street. But today on my break, I pulled into the driveway and the dog was still hanging outside of my house. When I got out of the car, it tried to follow me to the door (the thing was LIMPING for Christ's sake). Now, I went through a very serious Annie phase as a child. Three year old Jenn knew the movie by heart and would constantly wear a curly red wig over her straight black hair, resulting in an impressive marriage of mullet and geri curl and ensuring that her parents existed in a state of perpetual embarrassment (this reached it's pinnacle when I went into my preschool class and announced that "I don't have a Daddy, I'm an orphan like Annie" after my dad had been living part-time in Texas for a few months while working on a big case-see, my hyperbolic nature is nothing new). So I was raised to believe that when a stray dog follows you home, you have to care for it and also sing it Broadway tunes.
Anyway, I didn't know what to do. Then my own aforementioned giant dog came bounding out of the house, scaring the crap out of the little, scared, shivering dog again, who hobbled across the street. So what do I do? I went over to it and...picked it up. As in touched the stray, dirty dog with my own hands, carrying it in my arms into my garage where I gave him water and dog food. I know what you're thinking, but seriously, I weighed my options and decided that I'd rather risk rabies than live with the guilt that I'd have if I left the scared, injured animal outside during the alleged snow storm that the meteorologists totally lied about. The best part was that because my dog is the only animal I've ever liked in 23 years and he is 90 pounds, I've never actually carried a dog around before. I held it like a baby. A dirty, shivering baby with clumps of fur falling off of it from stress.
So I drove around the neighborhood, discovered a missing dog flier with this animal's picture on it, thanked God a couple of times for letting this be someone's pet and not some crazy wild animal that I picked up outside and carried into my home, called the number and returned the dog. Is this not the most ridiculous lunch break of my life? I am a hero! I have some serious good karma coming my way.
2. YELLED at a telemarketer. I have never even been rude to one before, seriously. Yes, they are annoying, but I find it hilarious that it's someone's job to do this, so I play along. But after receiving 15 calls in two days from the same number (I missed half of them, the other times no one answered when I picked up) between the hours at NINE am and NINE at night, enough was en-effing-NOUGH. SO on the 16th call, the conversation went like this.
Me: Hello? HELLO?!?!?
Telemarketer: Hello, may I-
Me: NO, NO YOU MAY NOT. I HAVE GOTTEN THREE THOUSAND CALLS FROM THIS NUMBER IN 48 HOURS. I WANT MY NUMBER REMOVED FROM YOUR LIST.
Telemarketer: Ok...
Me: NO, I MEAN NOW. THIS VERY INSTANT.
Yes, I said "this very instant", because I am a 65 year old schoolteacher.
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