Twelve days.
Today, day thirteen, was the first day that I felt even remotely like myself. I have been basically non-functional for the overwhelming majority of the past twelve days. Next year I am getting a flu shot in fucking July.
And tomorrow I am taking Leo and we are going to run around Green Lake like five times, because he deserves it, poor little guy. He is bored out of his freakin’ skull. I haven’t even had the energy to drive him to daycare, so he has pretty much just been laying in bed with me for two weeks. Tonight I woke him up from a little nap to play with him and he growled really aggressively, like I’ve never heard him growl before. His little canine teeth popped out and it was just the most genuinely angry growl I’d ever heard from him. He wouldn’t let me touch him for like five minutes. I felt so guilty. I figured he just hates me now.
But later I was eating a bagel and cream cheese, and I had the bagel cut into two halves, and cream cheese on both halves. I ate one half, then focused on some work on my computer for ten minutes. When I came back to the table, the other half of the bagel was gone. “Did I already eat it?” I could have sworn I still had a half of a bagel left. I was super confused. Maybe I had eaten it, after all? But never fear! My little dog promptly returned the half of the bagel he had stolen. It was in absolutely perfect condition, except for the fact that he’d licked off every single nano-ounce of cream cheese. So he doesn’t hate me — people who hate you don’t return your bagel — but I do think I have to spend the rest of the month making this up to him with loads and loads of playtime and possibly some extra cream cheese.
