I guess it was bound to happen. No sooner did Abe and Elle move into yet another new place, they decide to move again. What is this, the third move this year? Inka?
Yep, she confirms it. It's the third move in twelve months. I'm not sure what a month is, frankly. Abe and Elle talk about them like they're some tangible unit of time, but I can't really tell what they're talking about. It's like, they'll say, "Yeah, it's been twelve months since we left." And I'm like, nuh uh. Make that 84. You can see the math. Us dogs age seven times faster, at least that's what Inka says. What does she know, though? She's a cat. So while Abe and Elle are like, "It's only been a year," I've been stuck gazing at Lake Michigan and trying to avoid the flue (why are they calling Martha's runny nose a chimney part?) forever. I can't even remember what it felt like to move into this new place so we're already leaving? Where did we come from?
We've moving back to Champaign. I know this mostly because I've been seeing familiar places and sniffed familiar dog butts when I went to the park. And I saw Bailey and Wiley the other day. I mean, what are the chances of that happening on a random day after being in the car for like two and a half hours, or is that 17.5 hours? OMG, I can't figure this shizzle out.
Anyway, we're in a place we stayed at for a couple of days a few weeks ago, or was that a few weeks 21 weeks ago? Grr! Math! Sigh.
None of our stuff is here though. So I'm kinda wondering when I'll get all my beds in each room and toys and stuff.
Inka's been quieter at night though. What's that mean? IDK.
Anyway... months are stupid.