I’m tired. And my back hurts like hell. But I’m dealing with it better than I normally do, if I do say so myself. I haven’t turned on the TV all week. In the few free moments I have during the evenings, I’m either tackling my dog with kisses or trifling through a book… or three. As well as Fluffernutter McGee, I’m reading a book on Social Media, and this evening I’ve just started one on the Spiritual Disciplines which I can already tell is going to be good. They’re all good, really… if you think about it. (Dub, please chime in here.)

Tonight in the dog park we had a long conversation with Ursula’s mom, a psychologist who gave me some tips on dealing with my medical anxiety. Anyone who has known me for more than six months has probably seen me pass out and subsequently vomit from hearing a story about that one time their great grandfather had to have his blood drawn. Ursie’s mom gave me the simple tip of Benadryl (wait, this sounds familiar!) and lots of water before doctor’s visits. So now I’m motivating myself to head to the doctor  for a general checkup… which I’ve been putting off for about two years now.

All this self-work leaves me in dire need of some time at Cape Cod, which I’m looking forward to this weekend. My family will all be together again at our cozy little shingled house by the beach. We will celebrate my dad’s birthday with the traditional lobster cracking at the kitchen table, all adorned in Red Sox hats and drinking Smuttynose ale. Just about the only thing that sounds better than Benadryl right about now.

But for tonight, I’m going to enjoy my all-time favorite pursuit. Sometimes, when Matt sees me like this he’ll lie down next to me in bed, take my hand, and sing “won’t you please read my signs; be a gypsy?” Best. Friend. Ever.

I’m sorry I didn’t post yesterday. I was pretty busy with other things. Like taking the bus to the transmission shop to pick up my car, and being attacked by a pitbull while in the park with Berlin. I wound up with a gash on arm, a bruised left heel and something on my back that feels like a bruise, but I can’t see it so I don’t know. I’m really ok, but I have to tell you that it was neither fun NOR fun. We’ve bumped into this guy and his pitbull a number of times, but the dog is generally tightly restrained on his leash. I don’t know what this dolt was thinking by letting his very territorial male dog off his leash in the park, but I hope he’s learned not to do that again. Berlin’s ok, and I can’t find any scratches or cuts despite the fact that the dog was chomping on her neck.

It’s been an overall rough week, and I’ve been without Matt for a few days here as he’s hiking the Presidential Range in NH. I hate to admit it, but I’m pretty co-dependent and very quickly turn into a basketcase when I don’t have him right over there… on the couch… for me to just talk to or be next to. I’ll get to see him on Saturday, as Berlin and I are camping w/ my folks and going to the end of the trail to pick him up.

SO now that we’re caught up, have a great holiday weekend. And don’t forget those dudes, and the tea party, and the shot heard round the world. Independence has been pretty hot since then.

This totally does not even do it justice. I walked from Boston Common into Cambridge, took two different buses, and got home two hours after I set out. Needless to say, there was no trip to the groomer but a very very good excuse to pick up Chipotle on the way home.

Hope your Memorial Day weekend was nice. We headed down to Baltimore with Berlin vomiting throughout our southbound drive, and requiring us to stop three times before even exiting Connecticut. When we didn’t have to stop for Berlin, we had to stop for me because I drank too much coffee, once again. Matt’s fuse was quickly burning out, and I saw glimmers of domestic violence in his eyes as he contemplated killing both of the women in the vehicle. I still have yet to figure out why he spared us.

On the 9 hour drive home, Berlin held in her food because we hadn’t fed her in twelve hours. But this time I was the one feeling carsick, which NEVER happens because I have a stomach of steel. I’m not sure who was happiest to pull into the driveway last night, Berlin because she could run in the park off her leash, Matt because he could lay down in the park with a happy dog and without his wife, or me… because I had to pee since Hartford but held it in so as not to stop the car yet again.

I’m starting to steel myself for tomorrow – the day that Berlin gets spayed. Matt has agreed to hurry home after work so I don’t have to pick her up alone and hear the 15 minutes of instructions on how I need to clean her stitches landing me promptly on the veterinarian’s office floor in a faint, and perhaps a pool of my own vomit. I remember when I insanely had Mojo’s front claws removed, and the emotional trauma that I endured watching him limp around the house in agony. At one point I curled up on the couch and started bawling because HE HADN’T PURRED IN OVER TWENTY-FOUR HOURS, AND I AM THE MEANEST PERSON ON THE FACE OF THE EARTH FOR DOING THIS TO HIM! I’m pretty sure we have a picture of me in this state of despair… Yes, here I am sitting in a Xerox box Mojo enjoyed sleeping in, mourning the loss of his claws and general happiness.

In the case of Berlin, Matt has explained to me over and over again that REMOVING HER UTERUS is the most humane option for her. My guilt complex will not let me accept this. But I’m trying to make the best of it, hoping to schedule a trip to the groomer this evening so she can at least LOOK GOOD before going into surgery. I’m hoping it will make her look less pitiful in recovery and will draw attention away from her shaved belly. I’ll post pictures, both with and without… the lampshade.

Definitely the kind of week that I’m juggling all my balls in the air. That had an interesting sound to it, didn’t it?

Lots of fun projects at work with lots of itty bitty details, and we all know I’m NOT a detail person. Then both cars displayed the fateful “check engine” light, one which we ignored and the other which was un-ignorable as it was transmission related. Matt purchased a gas grill on Sunday and had it mostly out of the box and in pieces when he found a large dent in one piece. So it was packed precariously back into it’s box with most of the padding already in the trash, and shipped back to Home Depot in the car whose “check engine” light was being ignored. Which strangely enough went off yesterday. So I guess that’s been miraculously taken off the list of things to do.

And through it all we experienced each and every different bodily fluid that Berlin has. On Sunday it was the disgusting discharge related to her heat, on Tuesday and Wednesday it was corned-beef vomit, on Wednesday it was what we think might have been pee? And this morning at 6:30 am it was diarrhea on the carpet in our bedroom. Lots of it.

So this evening we head to the vet… and possibly to pick up the car with transmission “check engine” light issues. That is, if it’s ready yet. Can’t wait to see that bill. And finally to Kappy’s Liquor Outlet where I will buy a lovely bottle of Malbec to drink while watching this week’s episode of LOST. And for one hour of my life I will think neither of the 30 or so emails in my inbox that I need to respond to, nor that mess over there on the floor that I need to clean up. And I might even dance around the living room to Jackson Browne with Mojo on my head… because he could seriously use some attention.