Another set of photos developed, and bizarrely, they all seem to be of one small, adorable dog. If anthropologists come to dig up my apartment in five hundred years, they will suspect that Brooklyn was run by Chihuahua mixes. They will be puzzled at the level of wealth and technological development this civilization seems to have attained, given that they spent most of their time curled up sleeping.
I was tempted not to turn on the computer this evening, but I realized that this blog may be the only external proof of my existence (I blog, therefore I am). Thank goodness Sancha hasn't figured how to co-opt this!