Take that back…

Last night after 5 times of being woken from deep sleep I went down to kill the dog for barking.

He wasn’t even standing up, just laying down, barking like a mad man.  Looked a little surprised when I opened the door.

I didn’t even smack him around this time.  I said something to the effect of “Seriously?” and went back to bed. Barking done for the night.

Barking Dog Update.

I have had 4 whole nights of sleep uninterupted by barking geriatric dog.

Whatever has changed with him is beyond me, but I am thrilled and have been rewarding him with treats.

I’m a much better dog owner this week.

Says me.

S.

Death by paper.

I have paper in my life.

Records, bills, statements, tax information, notes, poetry, recipes, house stuff, insurance stuff, job stuff and junk mail.  You cannot forget the junk mail.

Paper.  Paper that needs to be shredded.  Paper that needs to be kept for records, but not for always.  Stuff to be filed.  Stuff to be dealt with.  Stuff that I don’t know what to do with.

Warranties, manuals, guidelines, bylines, directions.

Paper all over my house and consuming my life.

Today I went through as much of it as I could and reduced it by over two thirds.  I have not a single paper cut, but my crappy cheap shredder only does a sheet or two at a time and I have had to open all the credit card offers, etc.

I want to know what happened to the “paperless society” that used to get talked about so much with the massive increase in personal computer usage.

I want that.

I want that now.

Says me.

S.

Geriatric Barking Dog.

I love my dog.  He has cost me a fortune in food, vet bills, destroyed furniture and flooring.  I have spent countless hours chasing him as he seems to laugh at me.  He has shed about 30 sweaters worth of dog hair into my home, one changing season at a time.

Despite all this I love him and his quirky stubbornness, but here is my assessment of last night.

Number of random barks from him that woke me up last night:  15.

Number of times I yelled at him down the laundry shoot before getting up:  13

Number of expletives uttered on the way down the stairs with a rolled up newspaper: 52

Amount of guilt I feel for thwapping an 11 year old geriatric arthritic mutt:  Immeasurable

Who in the world ever let me get a dog?

Says me…

Sarah