Had a great weekend, despite the fact that every time I think I’m going to have a spare moment to get things that I need to do done, a phone call or minor catastrophe manages to derail my plans. It started Thursday night when I’d intended to get my pack and clean on at the house for a few hours before spending time with the boy that I’d managed not to see all week because I’ve been so busy. I came home to discover Zeus’s severe hay fever had resurfaced and he had another oozy hot spot, so I rushed him to the vet so that he could get an antibiotic injection and some Prednisolone to help with the itching so that he can heal. There’s nothing like a beagle on steroids. All he wants to do is pee and scratch. When he’s all healed I have two options: keep him on the medication and follow him around with a squeegee, or bathe him daily. I’m not liking my options. After spending money that was supposed to pay my gas bill at the vet, I dragged my panicked dog home, brushed the dog hair off my clothes, and met the boy for some Chinese take-out and movie watching. Needless to say, I didn’t pack a thing.

Friday night I worked both jobs (again solidifying my belief that anyone who walks into a restaurant with seventeen of their friends fifteen minutes before closing time deserves to be executed) and met the boy and his friends in Berea for a gathering/party afterwards. Saturday I went to another party/cook-out and tried to keep an open mind about the type of person who goes to a barbecue/bonfire wearing stilettos and carrying a Kate Spade purse. Who does that? Really? I also discovered that expensive French champagne and I do not get along. The hostess works for one of the really great local breweries in Cleveland so I was thrilled with the keg on site, but then she pulled out a bottle of bubbly to share with the girls by the fire and it hit me like a ton of bricks. After one glass I headed to the bathroom and nearly turned inside out before returning to A, tried to calm myself by drinking water and eating crackers, realized that I was getting sea sick in my chair, and had him drive me back to his place. I proceeded to flop on his bed and don’t remember a thing until late Sunday morning.

Breakfast yesterday really confirmed my belief that I’m really just a vegetarian struggling with veganism (I broke down and actually ate pancakes, trying to ignore the buttery taste and convincing myself that there probably wasn’t any milk in the batter…ha). I spend some quality time with the beagles (constantly amazed at Zeus’s bladder capacity) before heading to the lingerie store to buy a pretty strapless bra for my bridesmaid dress fitting (damn am I a sucker for pretty underthings). Had my dress fitted, stopped at my parents for a chat, and headed home again, too exhausted to pack.

With a quick glance at my calendar of events for the week I’m wondering how the hell I’m ever going to get moved. I suppose I could learn how to say…oh…what’s that word again? Oh! No! Apparently, saying “no” to some things would leave me wide open to pack and move and work more so that I can pay my bills, but really, what fun is that? I’m remarkably unfocused this morning as well. For one thing, I’ve spent all morning trying to decide what fabric I want for the new couch I’m going to order from Funky Sofa. Decisions, decisions. I’m wishing the “Wild Pony Black & White” print went with the rest of my décor. It’s so fun! The “Grape Velvet” is pretty fun, too. I just don’t think I’m cool enough to pull off a purple velvet couch, I don’t care what’s hanging in my closet. Ah, well. My retaliation towards all things tasteful and sophisticated stems from my early morning browsing of professional attire on the web. I’m not liking my options. I feel like I’m shopping for a Halloween costume. Every time I look at a suit or dress pants I think “HA! I would SO never wear that!” Ugh.