It's a Dog's Life

I call this photo, taken late yesterday afternoon, "Epitome of a Pampered Pup." Once my dog realized this isn't a hotel and she'll be living here with me from now on, she proceeded to make herself at home. She seems to particularly like the lack of stairs. Before, my bedroom was upstairs and she didn't venture up there 'til I was ready to go to bed at night. Now that there are no stairs to contend with, she'll go climb into my bed for a nap whenever she feels like it. She looks very laid back and contented, doesn't she?

I, on the other hand, am not feeling so pampered. I'm wearing my same old sneakers to walk the dog, and they are, alas, not cool. I guess I could do with some new ones. My toenails haven't been painted in weeks. Ditto my fingernails. Hell, most of the time, it's all I can do to wash my hair and get a bath. I do, however, luxuriate in a bubbly, scented bath. I'm not giving that up, regardless of how little time I have to spend on myself. I should perhaps take lessons from my dog and just do it, whatever it might happen to be, whenever the urge strikes. Makes her happy.

There's a full moon coming, and it's going to be a humdinger. I can tell, because I've been feeling the pull for several days now. Things that might normally piss me off a little are going to crawl all over me before it's over. If I had a bunker, I'd go crawl into it for the duration.

TWISTED LINGUISTICS has a few Monday blasfomys to baffle you.

supposenly
additude
mimmick
heathly
honered
anit-American
avitar