it was a run-by pooping

my purse, gym bag, pair of heels, laptop bag, and a set of keys juggled to the ground as I unstuck a note taped to my front door.
after blaming the note for everything wrong in my life (I was hangry), I read the bubbly-written letter aloud to Romeo.

even HE rolled his eyes at the number of "OMG"s in this thing.

in summary, a fellow tenant threw a bag of dog poop in to my patio and broke something.

I cannot say Romeo's poop has ever broken anything. (EVER). I mentally applaud her rock-digesting pup while racing to my patio to see the damage.

a decorative light was smashed... glass pieces lay beside the guilty poop-bag defendant.

over the next 24 hours, I marvel at the fact that a stranger's bag of dog poop was
a) hurled in to the air
b) hurled in to MY PATIO and
c) broke something.

I was (and still am) pretty amused.

since she offered to fix it, I told her it was simply from Target and not a big deal.

the next day, I returned home to a gift on my door step. she not only purchased the replacement bulbs, but wrapped them in tissue, placed them in a bag, and included a card.


in other news...
...2 pink Peeps is what I had for breakfast. I am pretty sure Easter candy exists because someone said HOW WILL WE GET FAT BEFORE NEXT CHRISTMAS??
...I spent 10 minutes earlier watching cat videos. on CNN. so, you know... it was NEWS.

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