The dog can pee now

Loki seems to be doing better, so I think I'm going to chance letting him sleep in the living room tonight. My poor big and nasty dog. Thing smells like death and toilets. For reals.

My appetite is MIA the last two days, but I do feel a little better. I'm sure I'd feel even better if I ate something before dinner time. Not eating is probably not the best thing for fatigue. I just couldn't stand the thought of another english muffin or even a cup of coffee today.
I was at least able to play with the dogs in the yard for about 45 minutes today. Throwing toys and making them constantly sprint back and forth is at least effective in draining some of their energy.

I have no insane ramblings for tonight. I'm afraid it's only easy to ramble when I'm delieriously tired. Damn it.

Cat Party on my mind

I'm still tired, but I was able to take a shower standing up today!
God, that's a really sad thing to get excited about.

So I love the show Frisky Dingo on Cartoon Network, and I really want them to make the song "Cat Party" that the villian, Killface, has for his cell phone ringtone available for download. Why? Because its freakin' called Cat Party.
Michael claims to not "get" the show, but I caught him singing Cat Party tonight. Uhhhh huh.

To make things even more fun, my dog is having some kind of bladder problem and he's having trouble peeing. He goes outside, tries to pee, comes inside, then later has a sudden bladder release. Poor thing. I think he might be in a bit of pain since he's been walking around with his tail tucked down like he's afraid. I didn't think that much of it because frankly he's always had confidence issues and often walks around with his tail down like that. As if a 150 lb dog had anything to be afraid of. Too bad he can't understand English since I tell him that all the time. I hate that he has to sleep in the crate tonight since I don't know if his bladder is going to spring a leak in the night or what.


How fucked up is it to make a Sim of your ex and make it live in a basement full of garbage?
Just wondering.

Awww crap.

Ever have a Bridget Jones moment?

Yeah, well as neurotic and obnoxious as that character is, I sometimes suspect there's a tiny bit of her in everyone that has a vagina.

So, since my boyfriend, Michael, started Army flight school I've had to nearly physically restrain myself from blurting out: "My boyfriend's a pilot, you know!" on more than one occasion (Like in the second movie/book--there's a book, isn't there?--when she keeps saying "my boyfriend is a Human Rights Lawyer, you know!" with that horrid pinched look on her face. Or maybe that's just Renee Zelweger's face, I dunno.).

What the hell? What kind of vapid, no self-worth having female brags about what her boyfriend does for a living? And why do I feel the need to brag about this job, and not the one that actually paid him well? Sure, it's not weird to be proud of a loved one achieving something as difficult as grasping and applying the concept of helicopter flight. But feeling the need to rub it in is stupid. I'm stupid. Being a Pilot at Ft. Rucker is like being a private on Parris Island. So who even would care?

I didn't watch that movie. I swear. Shut up.

In other ramblings, I'm feeling really, really worn down (again). I was doing so well that I had only one bad day in two weeks. I knew it wouldn't last, but I was actually getting used to feeling good and having some energy. I even went job hunting while in my delusion of wellness.

I haven't even been able to take a shower standing up for the past 4 days. So if anyone calls back, I'm probably gonna have to say "Just kiddin'!"

The douchebag rheumatologist I saw last month refuses to see me before May. He told me to "keep exercising".

Oh! Because I never, ever even thought of that before! Ever. Never. Not once. Nope.

Um, hello Dr? I've been seeing different doctors for the past year and a half because things like exercise and even diet changes haven't made me feel any less fatigued. Or did you think I was lying when I told you that even a six-month stint of regular (even vigorous) exercise had only made things worse?

So now I have to find another doctor. Great, because it's been just super fun so far!

Since I can't seem to keep a written diary of when I feel fatigued and when I feel normal, I'm going to attempt to at least make a note of it when I write about stupid stuff that no one except me and possibly my sister would care about in my Blog. I would try keeping track of what I ate, but it would look like this:

• Ben and Jerry's
• Pizza
• coffee
• whole wheat english muffin
• with nutella
• or cream cheese
• cereal
• diet root beer
• coke zero
• more crap that I can't believe hasn't made me a fatty yet
• some recipe I saw and wanted to try. No, I didn't know it was 800 calories per serving.

Yeah.

I'm going to watch the season finale of Frisky Dingo. Again.