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I am soooooo tired. You have noooo idea how tiiiiired I am…..

Clinton Kelly (Brightly-blue-eyed-IV): “How tired are you?”

Kathryn: “I can’t even formulate the words to express how tiiiiiired I am. Am I slurring? It feels like I’m slurring. That’s ‘cause I’m too freakin’ tired to enun-she-ate…”

CK: “What’s wrong? Are you hung over? Are you anemic? Are you really wearing pink socks with those green sweats? ‘Cause that’s just wrong…on so many levels…”

K: “Um. That would be: No… I don’t know…and…who cares? Seriously….besides you? However, for the sake of the visual that is so freakin’ important to you…pink socks…green sweats. I’m soooo freaked out by what people might think…what if someone sees me through my own window of my own home and witnesses me baking a chicken cutlet for the dog and sees me in a mismatched ensemble? Zip it, Zippy…or I’ll change one sock over to blue just to mess with your head- -“

CK: “Wait…what?”

K: (Sighs) “I said…” (looks up at ceiling…squints eyes…thinks) “…called you Zippy….ha! I crack myself up…something….something…change to a blue sock.”

CK: (Stares hard) “Am I to understand that you are cooking for an animal but you can’t cook for your own children?”

K: “You know as well as I do that ‘cook’ is merely a generalized term to describe the act of being in one’s kitchen whilst the stove and (in my case, the fan) are simultaneously in operation. This is not technically cooking.”

CK: “Okaaaay. Why are you technically not cooking for the dog? And is that a print out of a recipe for chicken cutlets? You had to look it up??”

K: “Noooo. Well, maybe. Okay, YES…but only because it had to be of the low sodium variety.” (Whispers) “Metro’s got some issues with his h-e-a-r-t.”

CK: (Chuckles) “Way to go…whispering AND spelling. He’ll never catch on. I don’t believe there’s any sodium in chicken cutlets, kiddo. Nice attempt at distraction for that whole ‘missing gene on the cooking thing’, though.”

K: (Hangs head) “I was just born this way. I can’t be good at everything….besides, the dog doesn’t know I can’t c-o-o-k.”

CK: “Don’t be so sure. Look at his face…he’s torn between starving and having his taste buds traumatized. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a dog so cautious about eating people food.”

K: “I’m too tired to have this discussion with you at this time. I’d like to unsubscribe. Moving on…”

CK: (Frowns) “Well. That was rude. Did you just ‘unsubscribe’ me?”

K: “No, I merely unsubscribed from that particular dialogue. We can bookmark it and re-visit it at a later date, if you’d like….after a clean re-boot.”

CK: “Wow. You are tired. Insomnia?”

K: “Nope. Metro. He’s on this diuretic…it’s called Lasix. Diuretics evidently have the side effect of making you thirsty and then you have to pee. And pee. And peeeeeee.”

CK: “Okaaay. So, he couldn’t hold it till morning? I mean, you sent him out for the last time at…what? It must’ve been 1am…”

K: “Precicely. He then proceeded to scratch on the door to go out at 3…then he wanted more water and then needed to pee at 5…then I had to listen to the step, step, **CRINKLE!!**, step…click, click, **CRUNCH!!** click from the Post-it, then he needed to pee again around 7. That’s when I gave up and GOT up. I am positively exhausted.”

CK: “What? A what? Rewind, please.”

K: “Uh….peeing…drinking…not sleeping…Post-it.”

CK: (One eyebrow goes up)

K: “How do you do that? He stepped on a Post-it that dropped off the wall. They say they’re “super sticky”?... but they’re not....at least, not where I put 'em. I knew it the second I heard it…that unmistakable sound of a post-it stuck on a furry paw. This would not be the first time. I found it crumpled up on the seat cushion where he sleeps. Now, what did I do with that crumpled up Post-it? I had that for a reason…”

CK: “So…you knew he was having a problem…yet, you did nothing? Just left him to suffer in sticky-silence?”

K: “Oh, big whoop. The stickiness-factor on those things is laughable…I knew it wouldn’t adhere for more than five minutes, tops. A little Post-it Paw never hurt anyone. I’m going to sleep.”

CK: “Now, there’s a sentence you don’t get to hear every day.”