I only have a few minutes to write today, as it is 8:14 already and the part where I got up late could be Fault O' Ned, who might decide midnight is an excellent time to be a chattterbox. Someone is a night person. I am too, but I also have to get up at FOUR A.M. to plow the hearth or whatever.
Seven. I get up at 7:00. Still.
Anyway, in case you were worried sick, the no-sugar thing is going okay. I know! I'm surprised too! In the middle of the day yesterday, I didn't feel HUNGRY, but I did feel like godDAMMIT. WHY can I have nothing SWEET? Apparently being no-sugar-y makes me use all caps a lot.
But I looked on my list and I CAN have almond butter, which I own already, and I had less than a teaspoon of that and I was golden.
Literally. Because it's that time of year that June starts slathering on the fake tanner. Has anyone else noticed Jergens changed their scent? Why? I was fine with the old scent. Am I the only one who was fine with the old one? And can they make a scent-free one for those of us whose throats close up at strong scents?
But back to sugar. Or lack thereof. Ned said he would give up alcohol for the three weeks I am sugarless, because of course you can't have alcohol and he didn't want to be all living it up unsupportively in front of me. Last night, I found myself unable to shake the thought that Ned has an entire unopened box of Samoas in his fridge, but I did not make him produce them.
So the point is, so far it's okay. Ned keeps saying, "Yeah, but it's early yet. It's bound to get WAY WORSE." Who should work at some kind of addiction hotline? Is it Ned?
The other thing I have to tell you, and then I must go because hello, 8:20 now, is I had a scare last night. You might be stunned to hear that sometimes, if I call Tallulah to come in, she completely ignores me and goes about her business, which usually involves vole patrol. There is every kind of rodent in my shed, except, thank god, I've never seen mice or rats. Still. Chipmunks, possoms, squirrels, voles--and I know voles aren't much differnt from a mouse but somehow they scare me less.
Goodness how I digress. EDSEL, on the other hand, comes BARRELING at me the second I call his name. Always. Every time. As Prince would say. And THAT is why I was concerned when I said, "Edsel!" last night, after it was dark, and he did not barrel. Since it was, you know, dark, and see last sentence, I couldn't see where in the yard he was.
Finally I discovered the effing gate was open. Just a little, but it was open. The latch-y thing is getting kind of hard to close; I think the door itself is sort of unbalanced, and sometimes I slide it over but it won't extend all that far. I've never worried about it, though, because if I'm taking garbage out I can leave that thing wide open and Eds just stands there at the opening, smiling underbitedly at me and waggling for my return.
Something must've tempted him last night, though, and with some horror I remembered my driveway motion sensor had gone off half an hour before. Usually that happens because a neighborhood cat/possum/rapist saunters by, but all of a sudden my blood was cold. Well. My blood is always cold. But it got colder.
Had Eds been out half an hour?
The first thing I did was check the busy road that killed Roger and maimed Tallulah. No yellow dog and THANK ALL THAT IS MERCIFUL BECAUSE WHO'D HAVE BEEN RUINED FOR LIFE HAD SHE SEEN THAT?
Oh, I walked around, I spoke to people passing by, I called Ned who has had to scream over here now for 7495854939393 animal emergencies in the 14 months he's known me.
Anyway, I heard something scrambling up my porch while I was on the road and there was that damn Edsel.
I pulled the shit out that gate latch today. And all night I dreamt that I was in charge of a developmentally disabled person and I kept losing him. Hmmm. Why, do you think? Dreams are such a mystery.
Okay, totally late. June, trying to kill her pets constantly, and out.