Falling down the stairs, cursing the cat

Last week I was at home during that awkward space between leases. One night I was walking down the stairs in the dark (so as not to disturb my family members) when I stepped on a cat and fell down the goddamn stairs.

After standing up and realizing I had just landed on my tail bone, I proceeded to limp around the house trying to find the stupid cat that thought it would be a good idea to sleep on the stairs.

In Ann Arbor, pets aren't an issue. Either they're with you all the time or they die, because college life is dirty life. I wouldn't slip on a cat in Ann Arbor because a cat wouldn't survive if fed by your average college student unless Whiskas started making ramen noodles.

Basically what I'm saying is that my tail bone still hurts and that Ann Arbor is better than the suburbs because it has more dead animals.

(work.)

This morning (when I wrote that first part) I implied that Ann Arbor has more dead animals, and that's not how it works.

I think if Ann Arbor and The Suburbs were given an equal amount of animals, in this case we'll pretend the animals are all cats that sleep on the stairs, then I am conjecturing that over time the amount of dead stair cats would be greater in Ann Arbor.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how it should be.