The gronk, she is mighty. I spent a few minutes last night
swabbing a hydrogen peroxide soaked Q-tip over the white spot on my tonsil which I had done Saturday night, too. This morning, I see that the white spot appears smaller and less pronounced.
Yay! I think I may have figured out what I need to do to keep myself from going to the doctor every month for antibiotics.
Poor Em, I hope she can get over this without any more dreams of being lost. And Aims, I hope you get better, too.
Good luck with your proposal, vw.
Ok. I'm in tears. On my way out to the car, I slid on the snow and fell down the stairs, re-aggravating my hip/back from last week's fall. I'm in so much pain...with so much to do. I'm so frustrated. So. Freaking. Frustrated.
I just...I don't even know what to say in the e-mails to my profs and boss. And I know my boss has a meeting at 4pm today, so she can't cover for me.
There is no "natural time." Time is a human construct. Before artificial light, people worked from dawn to dusk, so in a sense, they were always on daylight savings.
So maybe Seasonal Affective Disorder is nature's way of saying, "Its cold and dark out, I need more fucking sleep."
Poor little Em with her being lost dreams. I have vague memories of having those when I was wee. I guess that's how the sleeping brain expresses anxiety before you've gone to High School.
I guess that's how the sleeping brain expresses anxiety before you've gone to High School.
...and after you've gone, the anxiety is expressed as...bad poetry and poor fashion decisions.
Late for class/final and didn't study!
(Often in a subject I never took. "But I don't KNOW mideval German! I'm in my THIRTIES! I haven't lived in this state in twenty YEARS!")
Pill popping sleep junkies, jonesing for a wink.
I'm pretty sure Hec was facetious and mock-rebuking.
Yes, but given how I feel when I just don't get enough sleep through my own fault, I'm sure that it was not appreciated by those who aren't sleeping at all.
{{Ellie}}
{{Stephanie}}
{{vw}}
{{people who need some more sleep}}
We had quite the weekend. On Friday, we left Sass with the dogsitter and headed to Dulles to pick up my sister and niece so we could all drive down to Williamsburg for a surprise 75th birthday party for my mother. About 10 minutes later, the dogsitter called to tell us that Sass had escaped and was missing, so the DH and I turned around to help try and find her.
End of the story first: Four hours later, we finally got her back. However, for four hours we walked the neighborhood (with lots of help) trying to get her to come to one of us. Hounds (I'm not sure if this is true with other dogs) don't come to you directly when they can't see you -- they instead try to cut you off, so every time you turn a corner, you basically keep the game afoot. We had a number of sightings and one heart-stopping report that she'd been hit by a car and run off into the woods. My DH finally got her back when he was sitting in the front yard of the dogsitter's house, and heard Sass in the back.
She's got some cuts & scrapes, but is otherwise okay. My sister and niece got on public transportation and made their way to our house. We rolled them out of bed at 6 a.m. (they're on CA time) the next morning, had breakfast, took Sass to the vet to be checked out, and headed to Williamsburg (about a 3 hour trip). We actually got to the party in time to surprise my mother, and the rest of the weekend worked out, despite the fact that we were all exhausted.
It's no fun to have pregnancy hormones and very upsetting things happen, let me tell you.
Oh, ugh, Sparky, that's miserable. And, okay, it's completely natural hound behavior, but I still want to shake a stern finger at Sass for flipping you out in the middle of a 9-month hormone storm (although, sadly, the Babyfras will probably do the exact same thing at least once before s/he turns 5, and it's even less fun with a tiny human than a dog).
Bad Sass. Bad weekend. You deserve a do-over.
