You know, I like to think that I’m a good person, and that I do good things for others. I’m not looking for karmic reimbursement or anything, but I’m going to admit something: when I’m doing something nice for someone, and that something makes my life way harder than it should be, I get a tad snippy. Just sayin’.

Y’see, The Cheerleader I Live With and I are dog-sitting one of the best li’l critters around – our friends’ dog, Mickey. He’s a cool ol’ dog, super lovey, and he’s just a fabulous ottoman. He even sleeps on the floor on my side of the bed, and wakes me up with a wet snout to the eyeball most mornings. I like that… in fact, I love it. What I don’t love, is the fact that the other night, Mickey released some evil jerk fleas onto the bed, and they spent the night gnawing at my feet, leaving me with itchy, ugly welts. Fuck. This.

So, yesterday, working on about 2 hours sleep (itchy itchy, all night itchy!), I had to spray the house, vacuum the carpets, strip the bed, do the laundry and bathe all 3 dogs. Which would have been bad enough had I not already had a doctor’s appointment, a massage therapy appointment, and a trip to the grocery store already planned. Which also would have been bad enough, but goddammit, with my feet full of bites, I was having a hell of  time walking.

I hate fleas. I want to punch them in their fat, ugly faces. All the time.


Stupid fleas.

On the upside, had I been employed, the day would have been a whole lot worse because I would not have been able to get anything done, and I’d probably be stuck wearing pantyhose and high heels, which would have made me very unhappy indeed. So you know, yay for unemployment!

Joblessness. Good for all your flea infestation needs.Who knew?


Happy Tuesday!