In Case of Zombie Uprising...Oh, Just Shoot Me.

So...I would not fare well in a zombie apocalypse. Nope.

Seriously.

Let me just fill you in on my day, thus far. Last night, my darling, adorable, precious, angel of a puppy decided that sleep was for the weak and kept us up all night crying. Why was he crying, you ask? Was he sick? Was he in pain? Did he have to go to the bathroom? No, to all of those. He cried because after Thomas tucked him into his little memory foam bed in his specially-designed pup tent, and wrapped him in his very own fleece blankie, and put his most favoritest stuffed dinosaur next to him so they could cuddle, as they are wont to do...the blankie fell off. This made him slightly less comfortable than he had been, therefore, rather than burrow back down under the blankie, as he's done a million times, he decided to cry...and cry...and cry...until someone (Thomas) put the blankie back on him.

Then it fell off again. Lather, rinse, repeat. All. Night. Long.

I am sleepy.

My coffee pot, thankfully, decided to work this morning, so at least I was able to force a little caffeine down my throat while I got ready to head off to the doctor's office for my yearly checkup. I stumbled around, had difficulty standing, and basically felt and acted like I'd already turned into a "walker", but still managed to curl my hair, fix my face, and throw together a halfway decent outfit. Heck, my shoes matched each other, if not the rest of the ensemble. I takes my victories where I can gets 'em.

Anyhoo, I got the dog situated for the day, took care of the parakeet, and somehow managed to arrive at the doc's office early. Not just "on time", but actually a few minutes ahead of schedule. However, I picked a busy morning in the middle of flu season, so I didn't get to see the doc for quite a while. No matter. I didn't let it bother me in the least. I calmly contacted my office to let them know I'd be a little late, and when the doc (God bless her, she's slammed and still the sweetest lady ever) took my blood pressure, I was A-OK.

When I left the office, I decided to grab lunch at my favorite little deli (which is in my building), so I headed straight to work. I was cool. I was calm. I was collected. I was the walrus (coo-coo-kachoo)...

...then I nearly wrecked the car because I saw a spider crawl on the window. For about a mile and a half, I drove with both feet together for fear the evil spider might get me. Each time he popped out of his hiding place, I jumped, forcing both feet onto the pedal, and causing the wheel to jerk in whichever direction my body spasmed. It's a freaking miracle of Biblical proportions I didn't hit anyone. I ended up pulling over into a gas station and scouring the car for that little multi-legged so-and-so. I never did find him. He's still there, and I have to get home somehow. I'm hoping the heat from the inside of the car will fry him.

So, yeah. I can handle sleep deprivation, scheduling, stress, and all kinds of pressure, but the eensy-weensy spider scares the bejeesus out of me. In the event of a zombie uprising, do us all a favor and put me down. That is all.

Oh--no, it's not! Thomas found these, so for your viewing pleasure, here is a collection of some of the web's very best The Walking Dead memes. Please note: the language is on the salty side, so it may not be totally safe for work. They are pretty darn funny, though.