A 5 minute meltdown

Tonight I sat down at the computer fully intending to write an adorable post completely focused around Dillan, and how he's a puppy who shredded his bed and I had to buy him a new one...

Instead, I sat down at the computer and was instantly angry. This computer is a mac, and I'm still completely mac illiterate, as in where the heck did that file save that I just downloaded from my email. Well Michelle, it would save into the "downloads" file. And then the ongoing escalation of frustration while trying to just figure out how to save a file, and where the photos ago, etc. etc.

And then Nathan started to play music. Which for some reason sent me even farther into the anger spiral. So I turned on the iTunes to drown it out...but the program didn't work. Why wouldn't itunes open?...I really have no idea. So I heaved what was quite possibly the largest, most desperate, husband pay attention to me sigh ever, and he gave into it. 

"what's wrong" he asks. 

mentally I answer "my computer is broken and I hate it and it never works because you play diablo on it instead of your computer"

verbally I answer "itunes won't work" 

You see, because we both have a user profile on this computer, itunes can only be open on one user at a time, and sometimes he gets confused. So, nathan logged me out, logged himself in, and then logged out again. Hello working music. Oh, and hello frustrated husband...oops. 

So I turned on Chevelle and all is right again with the world. Meaning, the second that I finally got music going and the internet opened up to write that adorable post I mentioned, I realized how ridiculous I can be. A heavy sigh is never going to achieve me anything. No one is ever going to reward my meltdowns with encouragement or by giving me a cookie. I'd be no better than the 4-year old in target screaming "Why aren't you going to buy me something!!!!!" 

So, excuse me, I'm going to go apologize. 

Well...

Well, I'm at work with my keys locked in my car so I may as well write a blog...

That's right I drove back to work, parked on the residential street adjacent to my office because the gate was closed, snuck around the fence, let myself into the office, grabbed that coveted hot chicken from "Whiskey Kitchen" left over from lunch today and got 2 steps out the door only to realize I didn't bring my keys.  And Nathan is out of town. The - worst.  Meant to be read in the same melody as wah - wah.

Here is my though process as I was parking my car.

"No need to bring my purse, I just want to grab that yummy chipotle mac-n-cheese for dinner."

"woops, almost left my car unlocked"  Silly, me...

"better put that key back in my bag so nobody sees it"

GREAT thinking!!!!

"This will just take a second" I said...

30 minutes later I am thanking myself for that little urging I followed through with called "roadside assistance"

And luckily I have some super awesome landlords who are willing to let out my dog after he's been crated for 12 hours.

12 HOURS.

Could you imaging being stuck in a box for 12 hours with only your dreams to keep you company. Such is the life of the Pico now.

Anyway, how was your week?

Nothing says good morning like a puppy in your face

Dogs, even more so than people, get settled into their routine. Dillan is absolutely no exception. Every morning I wake up to the sounds of a puppy stirring in the little space right beside our bed. He's stretching and yawning, and I'm lying perfectly still so that maybe he'll leave me alone for the next 10 minutes. Or at least until my alarm officially sounds off. No luck. He knows.
And with that suddenly a wet nose is in my eye sniffing. I don't know if he thinks somehow we morphed into other beings with different smells overnight but it never fails, he's sniffing with fury. I think he aims for the eyes because he knows that means I have to open them and stir to wipe the fresh puppy juice that is now in my face.
My eyes are now officially open, and I can no longer fake any sort of sleep. His tail is spinning in a circle and he's taking anticipatory steps backwards, so as to be closer to the door of course.
If I choose to roll over and close my eyes, he whines. Not begging whines of a normal dog, but "you are literally ruining my life" whines. If he's really upset, he will even bark. I think the total barks tallies about 5 now. Usually I'm not lucky enough to get to the "roll back over stage."
Now my feet are on the floor, and Dillan's front ones are lifting about 2 inches into the air.
I'm finding my glasses and sweater and he's rearing back, ready to race to the door.
I'm unlocking the dead bolt and he's jumping in the air.
The door is open.
He bolts outside.
And stands.
Sniffs some grass.
-business-
Sniffs the air.
Sniffs the grass.
Walks.
Tries to go back inside and I won't let him.
Sniffs the grass.
-business-
Then I'm pretty sure he smiles at me and races back inside.
Where I hear my alarm going off.

The basket

I had this idea in my head.

source via Dillan's pinboard

The sleek greyhound resting in a wicker basket straight out of some LL Bean catalog. So, when a friend's parents gave me their dog's old wicker basket. I couldn't resist.


I got the bed all prepared. I didn't have an oval pillow but I figured the rectangular one would do and might even give Dillan that extra bit of neck cushion I know he loves.

This is my result. My dreams are shattered.

My dog is afraid of his bed.