This week the missus has been gone to visit family in Las Vegas, leaving me here from Monday to Friday all by my lonesome. It's been cold, it's been rainy, and it's been snowy, so I've been barricaded in this small three-story townhouse like a prisoner in a trendy, earthy-colored tower of doom.
With all this time spent by myself, I think I'm starting to see and hear things... Shadows darting across the stairs when I'm only half looking. The paint on the walls melting into the carpet. The cat just walked by and called me Steve. My name is Bryan, you thoughtless prick.
But none of that compares to the neighbor's labrador. He just sits out there in his backyard, day in and day out, watching me. Sun, rain, or snow, he's there, and when I come to the window, he stares at me. I know what he's thinking.
Stay classy, friends,
Shower: What's that? I haven't had one of those all week.