Torn to Tattered

We took Sunny to the dog park this weekend, which she always loves, even if she comes back smelling like the feces of a thousand other dogs, but we sacrifice where we can for canines we love. What I don’t get is the people who get dogs and then refuse to let them act…like dogs. We encountered a Chinese crested in a denim vest with a bikini tan line, and a chihuahua wearing what I can only guess was a tutu, and naturally, neither were allowed to play, and Sunny’s attempts to get them to chase her were met with nothing but angry glares.

A Chinese crested dog. With a bikini tan line. That totally bears repeating.

I spent the better part of last week working on freelance projects at night, which, while lovely, left me with nothing but a brain that resembled a fried egg during the day. It wasn’t, however, nearly as bad as a few weeks ago, and was actually really enjoyable.

Honestly, though, I keep thinking I’m going to grow out of my awkward phase, but really, after 31 years, it’s time to accept that awkwardness is here to stay. And I guess by “awkward” I mean “horrible slob who cannot eat without staining her clothes and also, can’t keep her zipper up.” Am I the only one with this problem? I just did two loads of laundry and at least 3/4 of them had permanent stains on them from some splurty money shot of mayonnaise or another from last week. And no fewer than three times last week, someone stopped me to politely let me know that my zipper was down, exposing what were always something unglamorous like Hanes Her Way or Jockey. I really wish I could be one of those women who has an immaculate collection of matching lingerie to choose from every single morning, no matter how pedestrian the outfit, but…well, it’s never going to happen.

Also, it might be worth mentioning that sometime after breakfast last week, my boss stared at me questioningly, in a rather serious work-related conversation and then politely, asked, “Is that…? Well. Um, you have something on your cheek.”

Yogurt. I had yogurt on my cheek, but it didn’t look like yogurt, and instead, resembled something much more sinister, like maybe I’d spent some time in the bathroom with someone of the male persuasion, oh my God. From my breakfast of – you guessed it – yogurt, something like 20 minutes before. My best guess was that it was room temperature and flung onto my cheek when I peeled back the aluminum lid. I hope. Oh god, I don’t know. I just look forward to the day where I can make it through a week – one week – without falling, wearing my lunch or appearing as though I am about to disrobe while sitting in my office. I honestly fear for my poor future children, who are going to have to bear the humiliation of a mom who is not only messier than they are, but falls down and hurts herself just as much as they do. Poor Adam will literally have a house full of toddlers. Pray for him.

And sadly, yet fortunately, I’ve got to go write more for actual money that is being solely used to fund my dentist’s family vacations, because there is another crown on the horizon.

Happy Monday!

*Carbon Leaf.

11 comments March 4th, 2007