I kicked ass at work today. KICKED IT GOOD. I got so much done, and actually feel like I'm getting caught up. I was damn PROUD when I left there. I was exhausted when I got home and only made a measly piece of garlic toast with leftover spaghetti sauce for dinner (not even worth a pic, Cork, didn't even bother with pasta...sorry), but I was PROUD, dammit.
I am determined to RELAX this weekend and not worry about taking care of a cold, a headache, going into work to battle the filing monster, or the job-costing monster, or any OTHER monster that's been piling up as a result of my own bad luck, health, and all "other" [non]contributions to the shit at work. 'NUFF. I'm HOME now. Besides, it all comes out in the wash, right?
Meanwhile, my dog is a complete GOOBER. A GOOD one, since I forgot to put the garbage up before I left for work and the house was still intact when I got home. GOOD GIRL! So she got extra pets when I walked in.
The "goobness:" I took her out for her "last call" of the evening, sat down to watch some repeat CSI (original), and she comes BOLTING out of the bedroom like, "AAAAHHHHH!!!!! I just HAVE to be in the living room because where the FUCK is my squeaky TOY???!!" I mean, she was RIP- ROARING around the carpet, running in circles, barking her fool-head off looking at me, frantically searching. She finally finds it, brings it up to me on the couch, I reach for it, but HER take was, "NOOOOO, YOU CAN'T HAVE IT!"
At this point I'm like, "look bitch, I'm too tired to chase you, so either fess it up and let me throw it somewhere for you to go running after it, or it's all over." Normally I'm all over that shit, but tonight...huh-uh...
She'd have NONE of that. I ended up chasing her all over the apartment for the better part of 30 minutes, giggling MY fool-head off. I'd do it outside, but it's dark, and it's fucking cold outside. Shag that noise. Hey, we had some good fun in here, I laughed my ass off at her antics and got some exercise. Queensland Heelers really are an AGILE breed. Mix it with the excited, barking cute face of a beagle (not MY face, smartasses), and you got yourself a winner. They don't run into shit like I do, and believe me, I DID. I'm sure the bruises will show tomorrow, but it's worth it. I really should post a picture, but she's as tuckered as I am.
NOW I'm going to finish my drink, watch the rest of the damn show, and go to bed so I can tackle the rest of the monsters in the morning.
Happy Hump Day, peeps.