Last night became this morning... round two of dogs vs. humans.

Midnight. Wandering in and out of consciousness I think of the long haired Acupuncturist that works a block from my office. There's something about him that bothers me. I met him at a garden party two years ago when he was taking over a practice that had long been my solitude and a place of great healing. I don't think it's so much a problem with him as it is a problem with not having her anymore. She changed my life, made me better... healed me. I shook his hand and made the "connection" like she wanted me to, but I never scheduled to see him. When I pass him I think that he's handsome, but he speaks too slowly and his voice sort of purrs a little which I don't care for and thus I have gone without needles to move my chi for quite some time.

2am. The Pug is snoring and it's too warm in our room. My left shoulder hurts and I can't seem to regain control of the covers as there are too many bodies in or amongst them, more canine than human. I think nothing else, eventually I doze.

4am. Retching. That ungodly churning of guts and the thrusting of abdominal muscles... something is about to puke in the living room. RUN! Get there! Usher him out!! The large brown figure in the dimly lit living room barely makes it beyond the concrete slab before he hurls. Instantly he's mowing the grass, taking in great mouthfuls of what's left of our Summer turf. What could have caused this? Look around, half asleep, see a bag and realize. Bastard Boxer has struck again... the Pug's food is gone. A torn Ziploc which had been stolen from the counter top WHILE WE SLEPT is now extremely empty and not a crumb of cheap kibble remains. Pugs food was particularly revolting to Alpha, she wouldn't have fed her boys such a thing, not on the poorest of months. Boxer is finding this out, the food will not settle and instead wants to come back up and be returned to the bag for proper distribution to the Pug, one half cup twice a day as ordered! Stupid, stupid dog. Prednisone has forever changed him and he can't help himself, but truly, taking food in the night? While we slept? A new low. Leave him out, let him deal. Back to bed.

4:10am-5am. Miserable. Pug is snoring and it's beyond tolerable. Either gut and stuff Pug or save Pug and send him out to the living room. Pug has many fans, will spare him and get up again to move him out of the room. Finally, silence. Still can't sleep. Bastard Boxer is outside and the mind knows he will want to return to the comfort of the house at any moment. Likely, the moment just before Alpha is returning to sleep... still I hear nothing. More of the same, still not sleeping, right shoulder hurts as much as left, must pee. Dear God, kill me know. Just then, a scratch at the door. To the living room again in your skivvies and full of rage, let the Bastard Boxer in and banish him to his crate in case of continued upchucking during remaining two hours of possible sleep.

5am -6:30am. Dammit. SO TIRED! Go away lists in my head and aching parts, be gone cold feet and restless legs! Sleep, please sleep. No? Fine. Asshole. Blame Bastard Boxer BOUNTIFULLY.

6:30am-7:10am. Doze. Deteriorate. Dread.

7:11am. Awake. Angry. Awful.

7:12am-8:45am. A blur. Somehow dressed and ready for work, terrible hair and rather mediocre outfit as well. Couldn't stomach pills yet, need coffee. Dogs are fed, save for one... of course the Boxer will go without thankyouverymuch.

Recollections. Sending out statements in those morning hours, thinking of people who unexpectedly ignore their bills. Just pay it already, at the very least call us! Oh look, recalls! So-and-so is due to come and see us again, haven't seen her in ages. A rep calls on us, time to choose frames. Return those broken parts and update that catalogue. Make a bank deposit and think about the paycheck that's coming today, it will be short by a fair bit since you indulged in that one extra day off after Jersey. Would love a raise, should work harder. But I didn't sleep, it was the dogs again...