All sorts of things are on my mind. Here you go.
First, I don't think Husbandguy likes his job. He doesn't seem happy about being there and he doesn't hesitate to call off for the littlest reason. He's fine and everything, but I wish he liked going. I get it, though. Apparently these engineers are even less social than the engineers he used to work with. Hard to imagine, right? Still... But he goes and works and gets paid and just found out that he might be able to work from home sometimes so maybe it's getting better.
Also, 2 out of the last 3 times I've taken my shot (for MS), I've had flu-like side effects. I don't normally. I outgrew them years ago. I only get them when there's something else wrong, like a really bad cold or infection or something. But I don't currently have a really bad cold or infection so I'm not sure what's up. Last night I even had a little fever. It sucked.
And then, I am a terrible person. I contacted Howie's foster mom and asked her to take him back. Nothing is final yet, but it looks like we're going to be pet-free soon. It's for the best. It really is. He's too big and he eats poop and nobody helps me train him or clean up after him and we spend more time telling him "no" and "off" and "leave it" than we spend enjoying him and he barks at the neighbors in their own garage all the way across the street and jumps up on anyone who comes into our house, including us, and knocks Lulu down all the time. I know most of his problems are our fault. I feel really bad for quitting and know he could be a great dog if someone took the time to train him right, but I'm not having any fun being the only one who does that and it won't work if I'm the only one who does it and I just can't deal with the poop-eating thing. The other day I went out in the yard and cleaned it up so he could be out there without me having to worry and he apparently went out and pooped first thing (I didn't see him do it). Then he came to the door and barked like he wanted to be let in and when I opened the door he ran over to the new pile and started eating it. It was like he wanted to be sure I saw him. That was the day I got in touch with his foster mom. The last straw. I suck, but it will be sooo much less stressful here once he's gone, but I suck. I know.
So there you go. That's what's on my mind. I'm really glad I'm seeing my PhD next week.