Monday a.m.

Me: Morning, dude. Oh, my sweet baby cheeses; you smell awful. Especially the mouth part. I might puke. Wanna hear about my dream?

Wally...

Me: Last night I dreamt I had to buy a birthday present for my friend's mom. I was at a Mexican resort, and Amy Schumer and Jennifer Lawrence were totally distracting me. They were all, "Yo, girl, come drink with us! Let's get weird!" But I had to tell them I couldn't, because I was late for that birthday party. I bet we'd be friends if we ever met, don't you think? Anyway, then Jason Mantzoukas showed up, and he had these massive dread locks and a set of tear-away doctor's scrubs. He's hot. So...what do you think the dream means?

Wally...

Fritz
Fritz

Me: Fine, let's go get some breakfast.

Tuesday p.m.

Me: No. I'm not going outside. I'm not getting up. Stop pawing me. I want to lay here on the floor, weeping and — scheisse! — spilling my wine and eating breads...uh...breadstuffs...

Wally...

Me: Don't eat my bread thingy and stop patting me.

Wally...

Me: Fine, we'll sit on the couch together, but don't touch my breadsticks and don't talk during the detective shows.

Wednesday a.m.

Me: Wally! It's 3:30 in the morning. Stop doing whatever it is you're doing — and no, I don't want to know — but stop; you're shaking the bed.

Wednesday a.m.


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Me: Oh man, I gotta get up and go to work. Lemme guess: you're gonna stay in bed till noon and then hang out on the porch all day, yelling at passers-by. You're like a crotchety old man.

Wally...

Me: Everybody's gotta get off your lawn.

Wally...

Me: Back in your day, everywhere was uphill.

Wally...

Me: What, can't you hear me? Lost your ear trumpet?

Thursday p.m.

Me: Hey, wanna go up to the mountain house this weekend? Just like hit the hot tub and the seafood restaurant, and have a fire and wander around in the woods. I think you'd love it. You down?

Wally...

Me: Alrighty then.

Friday p.m.

Me: Dude! I'm home! What'd you do all day?

Wally...

Me: Don't suppose you packed? We gotta leave in 15 minutes.

Wally...

Me: OK, I'll pack us both up really quickly and you can sit in the car.

Saturday a.m.

Me: Ugh, I have a hangover. We shouldn't have stayed up till 4:30. What's wrong with us? So fun.

Wally...

Me: Let's move slowly towards a bloody mary.

Sunday p.m.

Me: Wally, I really like being single. I get to do what I want, when I want. If I want to eat Indian food for breakfast wearing a poncho and no pants, nobody's gonna give me a hard time. And I think I'm definitely one of those people that genuinely enjoys my own company. It's pretty great. Ah. Pooped on the patio again, I see. Better than the living room floor, I guess.

Wally...

Me: Ugh. Why don't I have a boyfriend, Wally?

Wally: Maybe it's because you talk to your dog like a total weirdo?

Me: That might be a reason, yeah.

Read more Fritz: coloradodaily.com/columnists. Stalk her: twitter.com/J9Fritzy.