Weird capitalization in that there title there hon. Hmm. Well, never mind. I took Jackson to obedience class last night and it was not as bad as I thought it might be. He didn't bite anyone or run away or go into a complete frenzy. Sure, he was the worst dog in the class, but he was still better than he could have been. Even though in the car on the way over and on the way back he kept climbing into the front seat & sitting on my lap: unsafe at any speed. I have to put more about this on his blog, we cannot have this kind of subject overlap. This two blog thing is kind of a pain in the ass, truth be told, although I haven't given up my dreams of being, like, the one dog James Herriot of my generation. Except that I might have to give the damn dog away before it drives us all insane. That would be kind of a bummer ending, huh?
Diminished expectations - that's the name of the game. Maybe I can turn my whole life into a darkly comic novel of despair. Actually, to be hideously honest, I'm over the PMS and I'm feeling quite cheerful and optimistic and even, dare I say it, bubbly. I'm going to Downtown After Five and I am wearing a really cute black dress with pink polka dots which hopefully distracts attention away from the horror which is currently my hair. It is now time to drink beer - I am gone.
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