DOGGIES!

Well, it looks like the boyfriend and I are getting a lovely little English Bulldog (pedigreed, whoopdee doo) bitch this week. Two years old--don't need to worry about house training, yay! I also like getting mature animals, as "everyone wants a puppy" and it's much nicer to give a sweet older dog a home.

Anyway, her profile reads "Entire Bitch." I am wondering if that is anything like a "Complete Bitch." If so, we have something in common!

The boy and I have already started shouting rules at each other, as if it were some kind of war. You'll understand when I say that I was walking by the couch, minding my own business, when he let rip with the loudest breaking-of-the-wind you can imagine, which went on for quite some time. I whirled around, pointed my finger at him and said, "AND NO PASSING GAS AND BLAMING IT ON THE DOG!!!!"

At this point, he looked indignant and shouted back, "Oh, yeah? Are we making rules then?! FINE! NO CLOTHES! NO COSTUMES! NO HATS! THE DOG WILL WEAR NOTHING BUT A COLLAR!!!!"

Hmph.

I'm very excited about the dog. It's nice, because I'm stressed out about work and several other things, and it's nice to think that in a few days I'll have a new sweet little companion to play with. I think this will have to be it as far as animals go, unless, of course, we end up on some kind of a farm with staff.

Specifically, I think I have reached my poo cleaning limit.

I'm living a lot in my head these days, which is nothing new, I suppose. I'm still going to the gym to try to get my mobility back post-back trauma. It's getting better, but it's still frustrating to me that I can't force anything to progress any more quickly. And I still have my garden and pets, but in spite of all of this external stuff, as I said, I'm still living a lot in my head.

I finally feel that much more is stable around me, and I've settled into life over here, and am no longer as scared of the world around me. Most of the life lessons I'm learning are about being kinder and less judgmental of others, which should really be easier than it is. In theory, being kind sounds like the sort of thing that comes easily to all non-axe-murdering people, but in practice who wants to stop themselves from joining in when everyone is rolling their eyes at the one idiot in the office? The fact that so many reality television shows are based on watching sad little people make idiots of themselves is a testament to how uncommon and difficult it is.

I wish I was better.

At any rate, in many ways I'm happier than I've been in a long time. Many things about my life are dreams come true. I live in England. I own a house here, with a lovely garden with frogs and birds and a greenhouse. I have a wonderful partner, and adorable and loving pets. I have lots of friends. I'm officially becoming "well-travelled." I have a good job, which comes with lots of plants and nice coworkers, and doing what I've always wanted to do.

But at the same time, sometimes I wish I could quit my job and stay at home and grow marrows. (Extra credit if you know that's an Agatha Christie reference.) Ride a bike or walk the dog to the farmer's market, come home and have a cup of tea and play the piano, and that sort of thing. On some level, I'm just a little tired, but I know that all of the things I have--the house, the garden, the ability to travel, the comparative financial stability--depend on continuing to work and carry on. So I keep going to the gym and that sort of thing, hoping that these actions will result in some kind of energetic rebirth.

Tonight is one of the tired nights. But all in all, it's a darned good life, and I'm happy.