A is for Abominations

Welcome to A-to-Z of stuff what is wrong with my life. There's surely no good reason to read it.

Look, I'm not making a judgement call here. I'm not saying I like poodles or that I don't like them. I'm just stating a fact: Neither God nor Darwin ever came up with the poodle. It's a human creation. It's an abomination of nature. And frankly I'm not convinced it's even a dog.

If it quacks like a duck it's a duck... right?

So if it barks like a dog it's a dog?

What if it doesn't bark like a dog but screeches like a turkey being inexpertly slain on Christmas day?

... Well then it's a poodle. A toy size one I mean. Bigger poodles bark sort of like authentic dogs in my interpretation.

I feel bad saying this because when I'm not a miserable dysfunctional sleepless wreck because of constant yapping and yapping and yapping and mother-of-god fuck-you-shift-worker YAPPING, they're kind of cute and I'm almost charmed at their eager attention as they imagine I am a big walking pile of dog food and attack me with their little tongues of doom.

The thing is: I can't complain. Not until I do all the things in my own power to give myself the best chances for successful sleep. I have to deal with sleep apnea, changing shifts preventing stable sleep schedules, daylight, allergy symptoms, occasional neck and back pain, habitual sleep procrastination: each of these problems invites a long list of strategies. I believe in cleaning up your own back yard before complaining about your neighbor's yard (not everyone does). But if I ever get all my own sleep to-do lists caught up and the poodle princesses remain the only thing keeping me awake... then I'll have something to say.