Fig Newtons

Updates in my incredibly exciting and dazzling life: I pity Maisy. Personally, I'm a dog person. We've always had a golden doodle (Don't freak out about the femmy dumb name, it's a golden retriever and a poodle mixed). Her name is Maisy, and I'm pretty sure she hasn't been bathed since Christmas. I have a very capable family, as you can see.

As aforementioned, my mother recently invested in a cat. I've never liked cats. They're smelly, licky, smart little nasties, and frankly, I'm just sick of them. Ok that's partially true. My family is obsessed with him. Mother giggles uncontrollably when he so much as looks at her. Poor Maisy is forgotten and alone. No one cares about her anymore. This is beginning to remind me of:
1) the Jessie cowgirl doll in Toy Story 2
2) my youth- when I worried for the stuffed animals that couldn't fit on my bed because I didn't want them to feel left out. I was 18.

Why is job searching so hard? Why is life so cruel? Why is the huge piano in FAO Schwartz so expensive? Why did they change the name Seesaw to teeter-totter? Why did Brian Miller break my heart in third grade? Why do people cry when they laugh? Why is windex green? Why do newborns smile when they sleep? Why do people have bad dreams? And why do they feel so real? Why is new york city mad? Why are old people innocent, even if they're not? Why do fig newtons always seem like a good idea, but they are always a mistake? Why do people change? Why can't I?