Not doing so great this afternoon.

I'm under the gun to finish my written homework for today's class, which begins in three hours. I am almost done but have writer's block when it comes to research design and stats. I could write a blog all day. giggle. I'll be done with this assignment in, what, 20 more minutes of writing? It's just hard.

The dog, sweet as she is, has chosen today to growl at every neighbor noise that occurs. We live in an apartment building. There are noises. Polly is growling. I keep telling her to stop. She has to go lie down in her corner and be quiet. She does, and then she hears something, and growls. It gets on my nerves and distracts me. I love her, I can't yell at her, so I go through the whole routine again. It works, for about five minutes.

I've taken three walk-the-dog breaks in three hours. I can't afford to do more right now. She will have to just deal with it. I did get frustrated to the point that I raised my voice at her, and then I felt guilty so I started to cry. (She was in a neglected, abusive home in her early years and I never let myself get mad at her. She's the world's sweetest dog and she deserves to be the princess, or the assistant princess, of this home.) I can't just "put her outside' because we don't have a yard here. I have to physically walk her in order for her to get fresh air. We do a lot of walking. Right now, I should be sitting still working.

The men who are central in my life are not here. I am lonely for them. Two are halfway across the country and one is in the hospital.

I hate that when I had PMS last weekend, my friend J. could tell, long-distance, and he told me so. And I hate how exhausting it is being a woman of a certain age.

I have to spend tomorrow, or much of it, at my ex-husband's house boxing up things and throwing out other things, and I dread it. Like big awful dread. I hate being there. I can't get emotional about it because if I do, I'll cry, and I'll lose my effectiveness. I just have to go in and do it, and leave.

I'm tired of the dental implant healing process and just want to bite down on something...it's been over a year now. I also want to be able to smile or be in a photo without worrying about how it looks, and I want to laugh uproariously hard without worrying that my retainer will come out. And sing with abandon, and articulate words with the letter "s" in them without being self-conscious that people won't understand me with this stupid retainer in my mouth.

I'm not getting enough sleep because I'm in grad. school and working and taking care of a home and a teenager and a dog and myself. There are not enough hours in the day and night together.

Ok Ok Ok

Man, I hate to complain. I'm a Pollyanna through and through. Unlike my new friend Jessica, I can't swear comfortably (except in intimate situations when the words st0p being "swear words" and become something erotic). I can't just bang around the house saying the F word. It doesn't help.

Thanks for listening, invisible blog friends!

I'll be better soon.