Calorie Amnesty Day
I'm declaring today Calorie Amnesty Day. Calories consumed today just don't count. Because, really, the only way I'm going to get through today is to have an IV of chocolate dripping directly into my veins.
I went to bed entirely too late last night because I have, once again, gotten myself sucked into meetings. Why, oh why? When I signed up to do book reviews for a local Web site, no one mentioned meetings. Nor did anyone mention that these meetings would start twenty minutes late because three-quarters of the"staff" members have no access to anything that could possibly tell time or provide directions to the meeting location and then go on forever because agendas are for losers and color commentary from the peanut gallery is required every three minutes.
So I got home at about 10.15 p.m. Which is about an hour past my bedtime. And I came home to a puppy with a severe case of cabin fever. Poor thing. The weather has been miserable since Friday, so Rowen's gotten zero exercise since Friday. I suck. I know. And I knew that I wouldn't get any peace last night unless I let her run out her energy for a few minutes at least.
I have a new neighbor and she has a new puppy---some sort of Scottish Terrier-type dog---an itty bit little thing---10 lbs at most, soaking wet---but very friendly and playful, name Tyra. Rowen and Tyra took to each other almost immediately. Tyra, of course, prefers when I have ahold of Rowen's leash so that she can jump up on Rowen rather than vice versa. Well, last night I let Rowen run free. And run she did. Back and forth like a maniac. She definitely has some greyhound in her. And ifTyra happened to be between where Rowen was and where she wanted to be . . . well, Rowen would just jump right over Tyra. Except that Rowen isn't the most coordinated of dogs. So she sometimes jumped into Tyra or onto Tyra. She did sometimes make it over Tyra, but then Tyra would get herself tied up in Rowen's leash and be dragged behind as Rowen set some new world records for the 50 m dash. To Tyra's credit, she never lost her spunk.
Rowen, however, did run off enough energy to let me sleep all night.
Today, Rowen is at the doggy day care. I haven't taken her in a while because it's expensive: both the actual cost of the day care and the vet bills for whatever Rowen picked up from the other dogs. But we're supposed to have nothing but crappy weather for another three days, so I sucked it up.
Rowen isn't the only one suffering because of the weather. If I don't see the sun soon, I'm going to need some happy pills.
So I'm tired and cranky today. And I really want to crawl back to bed with a pint of Ben & Jerry's ice cream, a bag of M&Ms, a cannister of Utz chips, and a plate of chocolate chip cookies.*
Except that I've started putting on weight. Again. Gah! Stupid metabolism. Every time I hit as high as I think I can go, I go a little bit higher.
Wow. Sorry for the downer entry.
I wonder if I could fake an illness and go home early.
*C'mon! Someone throw me a bone. Or, preferably, some free ice cream, candy, and chips.