This is the entry where she goes back to bed

So, at roughly 7:00 the dog gets up. Not a big deal, if there's food in her bowl, she'll usually eat and come back to bed. Instead, I wake up to "glurp glurp glurp glurp glurp glurp" and realize that she's drinking something. Come to find out, she was having a doggy drinking party in the toilet. Hmm. Normally it's the bathtub.

Back to bed. The commotion has woken up the Kii, and Kii starts banging on the crate door for her freedom. I put a pillow over my head, turn on cnn and ignore her. 8:00 rolls around and Kii once again decides that she wants out. So, I let her out, and in a shocking turn of events, she actually comes and cuddles. Aww.

I come out to the living room, look for the MIA tv remote. I thought I had taken care of my mug of tea before bed, but apparently not, because there's soon tea on the couch. Great.

Some other things, not fit for blogger consumption, go wrong, and leave me in a rather glum mood. Then, I spill chocolate soymilk down the front of me.

Eventually I recover and go grocery shopping. Only, everyone and their mother were at walmart today, and they all wanted to park their carts on one side of the aisle and stand on the other side, blocking off the aisle, and none of them would move for me. Then I get to the cashier, who actually complains at me for how I put my items on the conveyor belt. Seriously! Who complains to a customer about where they put their package of turkey bacon in the lineup?

I go home. I pre-heat the oven to start supper, pull out the potatoes I want to make for supper and ... there's mold. Since I just got the dog gone things about 9 days ago, they shouldn't be moldy, they're potatoes for crying out loud. But they're moldy and I'm too aggrivated to make supper now.

The animals were engaged in a "who can annoy Sarah the most?" competition. We caught Mikenna in the hall eating her own poop, which was very rank and disgusting indeed. I think we have a winner.

Then I managed to run over a glass bottle with my car. I also itched my arm, which picked a scab, which led to bleeding on my sweatshirt. I really only have like five shirts, people!

I'm not doing anything else today, because surely the dishwasher will break, I'll drop a plate, the vaccum will short-circuit, my hair will fall out or I'll otherwise sustain injury. No sirree bob.

I'm going to sit here, watch Boston Legal, work a little bit on my story and then go to bed. Thinking and responsibility will all be there in the morning.