6:42pm

Have not blogged all weekend because was hanging out at Roomie’s family’s house on Long Island. This basically always means that her father buys me lots of delicious Italian food and I spend two days watching TV, getting fat, and playing with her black labs. Puppy therapy is definitely a thing. Their neighbors just got a little three month old black lab puppy, and it is impossible to be angry, stressed, or sad when you have a face this cute looking up at you.

The only downside of all this is it made me homesick for my own little black lab who lives out west with my dad. The 4 acres is great for her, but I wish I could have her here with me. It really is impossible to have a dog in the city when you have a job. I cannot afford a doggy nanny, so I wound up with The Cat when my depression prompted me to buy something warm and fluffy. If only she liked to cuddle and didn’t hate everyone I would be set!

Speaking of The Cat, I finally bought her a laser pointer. What they say about cats and laser pointers is turning out to be very true. She has gone ballistic. She is a slave to the little red light. As soon as she sees it she forgets everything else. I have devious plans to use it to train her to scratch one of her four scratching posts instead of my door frame, but I am not anticipating much success.

I am leaving here in fifteen minutes for a date with that boy I talked to on the phone the other day. He of the Pokemon and the “I don’t really look like my picture” comments. I am not sure how to feel about this, but I think at least it’s good that I am moving on from Sam. Or trying to, rather. Maybe I’m jaded, but I’m making bets with Roomie on what his OkCupid flaw will be (for those of you just joining me, Roomie and I have a theory that every single male on online dating has one flaw that they do not advertise on their profile that makes them inherently undateable, and it’s anyone’s guess what it will be).

I think I know what it might be, though. I think it’s this (actual texts):

I mean, hooray for fitness, but come on. It’s the playoffs. That Packers/Seahawks game was insane.

Not to mention, I’m one of those people who cannot touch her own toes, so I always have to use the special people block when I go to yoga. And then I fall over. This is why I do not do yoga.