I am also worried that said dog has escaped from his baby-gated haven in the bathroom which is the only place he can really do no harm.  At least he can do no harm if you put up anything that can even remotely be chewed or clawed into a different form.  Like small pieces of plastic (don't leave a water glass on the counter) or toilet paper (the counter is not high enough, put it up on the above the toilet cabinet, and while you are at it?  Do not leave the lid up on the toilet.  And do not think that just because he is only about 4 inches high, that anything in the tub is safe.  DO.  NOT.  Leave anything on the ledges of the tub.  Do not leave anything on the built in shelves in the shower wall.  All items must go up in the over the shower-head hanger or they are also in danger.  And yet?  This morning?  He figured out how to escape the baby gate that closes him in the bathroom.  I actually just went back to peek in the windows.  (If I get arrested, do you think the officer will believe I just wanted to be sure the dog was not destroying the house?)  I was trying to see if there was a happy doggy face up on the back of the chair looking out the window to bark at people walking past.  I unfortunately closed the blinds a little bit too well, but I looked really hard and did not see anything.  I'm really just crossing my fingers that when the owners get home 4 hours or so from now, that he is still caged where he should be located, and where he can do as little house damage as possible.  You should cross your fingers as well.  He is evil genius smart, and far more determined that most professional athletes.  He is likely out the baby gate and has managed to work his way through the back door and is running around the neighborhood.  *sigh*  Probably not, but I'm still worried about it.

Regardless.  I've done all the damage I can do.  Must go shower.  I smell like dog,  And it has been blistering hot.  I also smell like stinky sweaty sunburned skin.  Yes.  I look just that attractive tonight, too.  Though I think I have a few more blond streaks in my hair than I did when I started this weekend.  I know I have far more freckles than I started with this weekend.

 

I am dog sitting again.  I just cannot get enough of a hobby where any time I come home, someone is soooooOOOOooooo excited to see me that they run laps around the house, their entire body wiggles, and all they want to do is kiss me.  How can you beat that?  

That being said, dogs are exceptionally challenging in their own ways.  The current one has a pooping neurosis - undiagnosed, but there all the same.  We walk his way because he has a route that can not vary, or the skies start falling (did I mention he has OCD, as well?), he finds a nice patch of grass.  Circles, circles, circles.  I know what's coming at this point, but there is not determining when.  We step three feet to the right. 

Dog's mind?  Someone could see me there.  Even when I turn my back?  They're still watching.

Circles.  Circles.  Circles.  OK.  I'm still waiting.  I know what's coming. 

Dog?  Maybe if I turn this way. Nah.  Maybe that-a-way.  Nah.  Hmmmmm... I someone over their.  OH!  Bird.  MUST GO CHASE! 

And that puts an end to the circling/it's coming phase, as the distraction prevents anything, so we go home.  And we sit and whine.  Well, "We" don't sit and whine, someone who shall remain nameless does.  So we go, "outside."  And find the back yard has all the same disadvantages as the nearby houses.  Circles.  Circles.  Circles. 

Nah.  Someone is up there in that church next door.  Can't go.  Shy. Kibbles and bits, kibbles and bits.  I'm gonna get me some kibbles and bits.

Back into the house to repeat the same thing several times.  Until our next walk.  When I'm really hoping the birds will have all gone down to the park to eat all the leftovers that people are leaving lying around on the tables and ground.  Cross your fingers for me.  Someone has gas.  Really.  It's coming. 

And if I just kennel him and walk to the grocery store?  When I get back a half hour later?  I'll get the whole lapping the house, entire body wiggling, must sit in your lap and give you kisses routine again.  Like I'd been gone for a month or something.  I'm liking this.  I really am. 

I'm really amazed.  Crystal Light has a challenge going on this summer.  You can read about it here. I would never have looked for anything like this, but somehow I noticed the adds in a magazine I was reading.  Mainly women talking about how great it felt to be drinking more water, and how they could give up soda if they had something to replace it with, and just raving in general about all the water they were now drinking.  All of full of the chemically altered crystal light products.  Are you serious?  Water?  And you think Crystal Light counts?  It's better than something caffeinated, but it is still full of chemical coloring and artificial sweeteners.  Not water.  The object of water is to get water, not sweeteners and chemicals.  I know everyone needs a way to advertise, but...  *sigh*  I give.  If you really want to believe that is water?  Go for it.  Just go.  And, don't get me wrong.  I really enjoy crystal light from time to time, but I most definitely do not consider it water.  Sheesh.  I should just go to my room now.  I need to think positive thoughts and make some positive choices.  I'm going now.  

Go drink your water.  Especially if it's not soda.

Does it totally defeat the purpose of your "healthy" all fruit and yogurt smoothie if you add diet mountain dew to make it just a little sweeter?

*nodding*

I was afraid of that. 

It was driving along taking the corners just perfect, so I could keep walk/jogging without getting in its way, or it in mine while crossing the multi-corner cross walk where I met it.  Normally, I would not have noticed this car, but it was a nice car.  One of those cars that is so nice it makes me hot for cars.  I am the ultimate a-car-is-a-means-to-get-from-Point-A-to-Point-B person, so frustratingly so that from time to time one male friend will turn me loose in the parking garage and say, "find my car" because he knows I can't do it.  I have no idea what he drives, other than I think it is a Honda, or maybe a Toyota, and it has a thingy on the window to hold his GPS, and a little floaty ball thingy that shows the compass directions.  I finally memorized his license plate number, so that I can occasionally find the car.  I don't care what people drive.  But this car?  Black, small, sharp and hot.  Very hot, and driving just perfectly, so I'm not holding it up at corners and it's not holding me up at the multi-corner cross walks.  In Seattle?  No one drives like that, even if they have a totally boring mom-mo-bile car, they muck up the driving thing so badly that pedestrians can't walk without fear of being hit, even if they (car and pedestrian) are the only two items on the road in the pre-six A.M. time period.  Hot car?  Good driver?  The walk/jog is feeling good? It is a perfect morning.  It's almost as good as seeing a tall man in full leathers on a big black Ducati.  Almost that good, and then I notice the car is just stopped, and I'm afraid it's going to turn in front of me and block my cross walk, but the street is one way the other way, so that's not possible, then I cross and the car finally moves just in time for me to cut back across it's path and...  did I mention how hot this car is?  Black.  Sweet.  Just gorgeous.  I want one of those.  ... I realize the driver is staring at me, and all I can think is, "He's totally checking me out."

"Well, that or he's a doctor or physical therapist and wants to stop and tell me my form is so bad that I'm damaging all my major muscle groups and joints."  

*sigh*

I'm sure he was totally checking me out.  *snort* Even if it was only with shock that anyone's form could be that damaging to the human body.  *snort*  *chortle*  *tee-hee*

Hahahahahahahhahahahahahahaha!

As Winnie the Pooh would say, "Think.  Think.  Think."  

Damn that car was hot.  I really want one of those.

Really not a job I'd enjoy.
Home to shower.
Hit gas station for my favorite drink. 
Clerk ignores me to text message. Thank you.
Finally get rung up.
Clerk:  I've never said this, but you smell like the beach.
Me:  Beach?
Clerk:  Yeah.
Me:  I dunno.  I didn't do anything.  I'd tell you if I knew what it was.
Clerk.  Just smell like the beach.
Me:  I hope that's a good smell.
Clerk:  Oh, yeah!  It's good. 

Oh.  My word.  Another job I'd not like to have.  I think he is probably still sitting there texting.  I am still laughing.  And that was all before 10:00 a.m. Saturday morning.  A weekend that starts out that interesting just gets better.
 

At my office building...

I violate numbers 2 and 5 regularly.

ARREST ME!  Quick! 

I have enough to last me for a while.
No more stress deposits needed in my life.
Work?  Check.
Personal? Double check - friends, home, dating (technically, not dating).  OK - triple check on personal.
Family?  Check.  Always stress bombs there.
Work?  Yes.  Check that one again.  First one is just general excess amounts of deadline driven work, second one for economy reasons.
Financial?  Yep.  I can check that one off, too.
Health?  Check.
Retirement worries?  Check.  Again.

I've got them all.  No more stress deposits needed for a while.  I'm no longer taking those.  You will have to find someone else that needs them.  I've got a full plate... I've got a several plates full of stress deposits to work through.  You can share them with someone else for just a few weeks.  Then maybe I'll be ready again.

Done for now, thanks.

It's just a darn good thing.  Not to mention, can you imagine if you gave off that much of a signal in general life?  You'd totally blow the cool cover any time someone stupid walked in your vicinity. 

I'm just glad the paint is still on the walls at the office and my neighbor can still hear me talking. 

Tomorrow is a better day waiting to happen.

I should know better with Seattle roads, but I was in the wrong lane.  There was a hUGe line of traffic in the correct lane.  I was sure that if I just went straight, there had to be some way to get turned right and down to that location that everyone in the correct lane was trying to get to, right?

Wrong.

I was just in the wrong lane.  I ended up on a private road, then in an apartment complex parking lot, then following an arterial to the wrong side of the interstate.  

Proved myself wrong.  Seattle streets are just wrong.