There's bird who's made a nest in a pile of computer junk just outside my office's back door.

Bird's having some kind of allergic reaction today. The left half of her face is puffy, swollen to comic proportions. I keep stealing glances and giggling.

If I die before you, I'll save you a seat in hell.

Bird remembered about the mail, but tried to go to the bank anyway.

It's going to be a good holiday.

Bird remembered the holiday. Dammit.

…Bird won't remember that it's a holiday.

Bird is borderline OCD over the mail. She watches like a hawk and keeps a constant watch on the mailbox. The very instant she hears that mailbox snap closed, she jumps up like she's sitting on a spring and dashes outside. When the mailman is later than usual she watches even more closely, and usually goes outside several times to see if the mail arrived and she didn't notice.

One of my favorite guilty pleasures is not saying a word when she forgets about a holiday and obsesses over mail that's not coming.

I've got my fingers crossed that she won't remember today's holiday.

Happy MLK Day.