TGIF

I just had to rescue one of my bras from the tiny dog's evil clutches. I don't think I'd put her in the microwave over a 40 dollar bra, but you never know. Mental note to self: make damn sure the bras are hanging securely over the doorknobs in the future.

I was stuck on the phone with someone for 2 minutes past my 2 a.m. quitting time. Now my space time continuum is going to be all effed up. Maybe I'll be able to regain my 2 lost minutes later today.

Sweety's off to work early and I'm fixing to let Sylvie get in bed with me so she'll sleep in. And I'm gonna make stinky dog go outside to squeeze out a teaspoon of pee so she won't be waking me up early. She likes to tap dance on the hardwood floor with her bassett hound high heels on when she's excited or hungry or needs to potty and it drives me nuts. Whenever I hear her tapping on the floor I picture her in my head with small red high heels on. The kind with ankle straps. Kinda like Dorothy's in the Wizard of Oz but stillettos instead of flats.

Boy. I just devoted way too much thought to that description.

Sweety says that I devote too much time to visualizing things that don't exist. The other night I was telling him about the "memory box" I keep in my head. If I start to think about something that I'd really rather not then I'll take the thought and stick it in my mental memory box and close the lid. I described the box to him (old, wooden, dusty, no lock but a latch) and how I also picture myself jumping up and down on the top to close it when I've got the memory stuffed inside. He thought it was weird. Well, see if I let you in on my personal filing system again, mister!

Better go get my pj's on and get the sprog in bed. I hope she's docile tomorrow. I'll be glad when Spring Break is over.