Rats in the night

Man, last night Lil woke us up -- a yucky rat had bitten through the hose behind the fridge and water was spraying everywhere. Larry killed the rat, Lorna cleaned up the mess.

I panicked.

;-)

We were up all night, slept in, and today's been weird, all day.

so, the couch is *way* bigger than it looked in the store

Much bigger.

It's fabulous.

Red.

Fun.

But bigger than anticipated...

Shin splints and a general blah

I am feeling very blah today -- no reason, really. I just am.

My leg hurts and I don't want to go to the trainers and yoga. I don't want to walk the dogs or do the laundry.

I don't want to get my word count and do my job.

I don't want to be a grown up.

*stomp*

*throw things*

*do my shawnzilla impersonation*

*ragemaimkilldestroywavearmsmadlyinaterrifyingfashion*

*chuckles*

Okay, now that *that* particular stompy-whiny-cry-baby stuff is over...

I'm tired of exercising

I'm not stopping; I'm just tired of it. ;-)

Okay?

Okay.

Today was a *lot* of exercising and running still sucks. I keep waiting for the rush. I think it's a lie.

finished an art quilt

finished a spin class.

finished reading 4 books.

started my period. ;-)

Finally.

Exhausted today

In a bone-deep, I could just sob sort of way.

If my period doesn't start soon, I'm going to become homicidal.

Just sayin'

I dreamed my dog got eaten by a bear

Bizarre, given the relatively small native central Texas bear population, but there you are.

I spend the first 1/2 hour of my day drinking coffee and working on art. It's a thing. It works for me, usually.

Today I was working on a little white doll, embroidering her face and attaching it, sewing on sparkly things, etc. Every time I thought about work (which, I admit, is a whole lot because dude, busy), I dropped the damn needle.

No, seriously. La la la I'm sewing in eyes, I think about production, boom. Lalala I'm fashioning a mouth, I think about assholes, crash.

In the middle I burst into tears, kicked the file cabinet, and found the needle again (fortunately, part of the lessons the universe was attempting to teach me this morning did *not* involve losing the needles or poking myself with the needles or stepping on the needles). By the end, her face was attached, her belly was sparkly, and and I was not thinking about work.

Hell, by the end, when I went into the sewing room to run her body through the machine, discovered that my needle was broken, the bobbin was empty, and the timer on my 30 minutes had just run out?

I could laugh.