Hello. It’s Belinda.
Last week I said I’m going to start my own blog. So I can have all the comments I want.
I just need to get some money together for the Wi-Fi and a used laptop.
Well I’m not sure if I can pull off the first step. Meaning a “side hustle.”
Because to tell you the truth I’m getting worn out just looking for a second job. Spending hours and hours on websites trying to find a position that fits my skills, etc.
Number one, it has to be “work from home.” Which narrows the list. And I can’t lift more than two pounds so that’s another issue.
Most important, it can’t be 9 to 5 because that’s reserved for my spokesrabbit job. Daytime is when I’m at my best.
But my evenings and nights are my own so why not use those hours to “make hay,” if you know what I mean.
Well I’m finding something out about making hay. There’s a time to work and a time to sleep and it’s all jumbled together right now. Which means I’m falling asleep when I’m supposed to be alert and vice versa.
Hard to concentrate with all the “brain fog.”
Like the other day. I was reading some reports my agent sent to me when I realized something was odd about the paper. It was thicker than normal and it smelled like hay.
I pushed it out from under the steps into the light and what do you know. The texture was different too. Rough.
Next thing you know I took a bite in the bottom left corner where nobody would notice and that was the end of reading reports. Because the paper was made out of oat hay and it was delicious.
I couldn’t believe it. What an invention.
“Hay paper” would be the biggest seller ever. Something for humans and rabbits alike. No waste.
The more I chewed the more I wondered how my agent kept it a secret from me. Nobody mentioned anything on our team calls.
Well, right in the middle of all this I hear “Belinda!”
My roommate. Making a big racket when she knows I’m trying to work.
I kept eating the hay paper. Maybe she would go back upstairs.
“Wake up! You’re eating your reports!”
My head jerked so I could see where she was. Then I looked down.
My papers were a big mess. Scattered around and ripped. I spit out a few scraps.
The whole thing had been a dream.
And if that weren't bad enough, the next day I was walking up to the kitchen and I fell asleep on the stairs. My roommate found me a few hours later.
She didn’t say anything but I know she told my agent. As long as I get my work done it's nobody business.
For example, I’m writing this blog at 2 a.m. and who cares.
Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select