Mish, Mash, Pish, Posh

I have not a clue what that title is supposed to mean in regard to this blog entry, but I thought it was a good name for the nonsense you're about to read. Reason number one being, I just feel like writing but I don't know what about yet. I feel as if I'll be a little more sane if I can let the words spill out onto paper the computer screen.You may have read my previous entry in which I spoke of my yearning to be some place warm and breezy, well that was only the half of it, sistahh(s)! (and brothas). The other reason I went with "Mish, Mash, Pish, Posh" is because all these words are all those little things in life that don't really matter at the end of the day, but I'll write about em anyway...

For the past two three 45ish days and counting, Drifter has found it necessary to bark his precious head off at night when we crate him. His barks quieten down after about fifteen minutes, but then he's wide awake and rarin' to go at midnight again. I don't know what his deal is, but he's a whiner and a talker and a big fat pain in my butt the sweetest dog around. Honestly, he just wants to be around us, I know that, but I don't do dogs in the bed. I never will. We allowed him to sleep with us when we traveled to Valdez one night (not my bed, sheets, etc! :) ) but that's just not something I ever want to get in the habit of. Anyway, to make a long story short- We've tried everything. Even the vet commented on how loud and "talkative" he was when he stayed there a couple of hours. That clued me in that we've got a special one here and he's going to take extra patience. Great. I've got tons of that (note sarcasm?).

Moving on...

I threw a shoe today. I was annoyed for the lack of sleep I've been getting. I was annoyed that no matter how much I tidy up, Hurricane Drifter still swoops in throwing around everything in his path. I was being whiney, too, I guess. Anyway, I just threw it forcefully into the closet and realized what a silly spectacle that must have been. I'm sure glad the walls can't talk. If they could they might tell you that not only did I lose my temper over something ridiculously miniscule, but I also went on a mini-shopping spree today without telling my dear, sweet, hardworking husband. Retail therapy was exhilirating. I found deal after deal that I couldn't simply pass up and now I'm officially suffering from buyer's remorse. I shouldn't have. When Captain J comes home from work this evening to pick me up for our weekly date night, I picture him saying "You look great, Kace BUT...." because everything I'll have on is new!