Furtive Little Feelings: What are you doing on the floor?

Its Frrrriiiidddddaaaaayyyyyy

Yeah!

Guys i'm feeling good today, its the weekend i'm wearing sweatpants and drinking a vodka and cake... urm I don't know where cake came from what I meant to say was coke. Eww vodka and cake would be pretty rancid. Though I did have a friend who did a shot once called Birthday Cake that had actual cake in it.

This isn't it, I can't find a photo. But how amazing!
Source: Celebrations.com

She had a wheat intolerance so that whole thing didn't turn out so good.

For anyone interested, work is going well! I finally seem to kind of sort of understand what i'm doing, it can be a little repetitive but there are much worse things in life than that!

Moving on,

I'm going to tell you a little story that happened to my Mum...

Me Mah

So if you read about me falling off my bike a few days ago on here, this is another tragic story that happened at the same wretched gate.

Just to set the scene a little bit, it was a gorgeous summer morning and my lovely Mum was walking my sister to school, our dog Jazz was plodding along nicely off the lead enjoying a bit of freedom. (sidenote: she was never allowed off the lead with other dogs around because she was a bit of a doofus.)

Purrdy

Then in the distance, my Mum spotted another dog. Being the super sensible dog owner that she is, she decided to gain some speed in order to catch little Jazzy pants to get her back on the lead.

Jazzies!

HOWEVER

A scene from a silent movie occurred.

Each time my Mum managed to get closer, Jazz sped up, putting more distance between them.

Mum sped up

Jazz sped up

Mum sped up

Jazz sped up....

Catch the pigeon

Just as she got close enough to clip the lead back on she leaned across to grab her collar and...

Disaster Struck...

All of a sudden she tripped, landed on her face and skidded enough to remove a large amount of skin from both hands.

As she lay on the hard concrete she realised that the dog that was approaching was now almost upon her, and with that dog came an owner. Feeling fully mortified she kept her face pressed to the floor in order to avoid any eye contact with the man. He must have either been a complete douche or just kind, because he didn't say a word. Just walked past head held high as if nothing had happened at all.

Just. Don't. Move.

In the meantime my eight year old sister had managed to dash forward and grab Jazz. Thank god for eight year olds. When she grabbed the dog, Jazz was more than happy and didn't cause any mischief what so ever. Other than whipping my sisters legs with her tail.

Needless to say my sister was somewhat traumatised at this turn of events. Her mother was currently sprawled across the floor not moving what-so ever. A scared voice said "muuuum are you ok?" the reply came... "Yep, i'm fine no problems". My mum stood shaking like a leaf in the autumn breeze, clenching her fists trying to pick stones out that were now deeply embedded in her now bleeding palms.