I was revising a manuscript to send off to Madame Agent of Awesomeness and now I'm girding my loins and getting ready to learn how to use a new word processing software because Word has pissed me off one time too many.
I hope I can figure this out without yanking my hair out too terribly much.
GRRRRR... The goddamn dog we are dog sitting has eaten 2 lbs of easter candy and today, pulled 24 cupcakes off the kitchen counter and ate them.
I am done with this dog. She's not allowed back in the house unsupervised.
I learnt that the TJ's near work is random and capricious in stocking jarred pears. I bought jarred peaches, but I know it's not the same. I just felt futless. Which is apparently not a word, according to Opera.
Why am I still at work?
Right. I had a point to prove on a Reply All email.
I am done with this dog.
There's not enough cute to make up for that, especially when it's not your dog.
No kidding. Esp. because the dog disemboweled the easter baskets I made for the NICU to get into the chocolate.
I'm just sort of on edge and angry today and dog isn't making it better. Dog is now an outside only dog.
Oh Kat, I'd be pissed.
Futless isn't a word? It should be.
Dog. Way not to be a good houseguest. Yikes.
Edited because this dog clearly ain't a god.
I'm especially pissed because I made the cupcakes for the birthday TWICE already (the first batch, made with CI recipe in all of its fussiness had burnt bottoms. Our oven temp must be off!) and now I have to make YET ANOTHER batch.
Am. Not. Amused.
EEEE!!! Just received my Sting tickets in the mail. Oh, June, why must you be so far off??
And eek, Kat! Bad dog. And poor you.