What did I used to do with my time?
My darling husband has taken off with our puppy for a jaunt to the neighbor's house to play a video game. The puppy is scheduled for some high-energy romping with the neighbor dog. They've been gone for less than an hour, and I'm so lost.
Sure, it's hard work keeping a constant ear out for sudden silence (a sure sign that someone is eating the cat poop or his Mama's knitting), being followed everywhere you go (having to be extra careful now, not to step on anyone), and venturing outside more times every day than I had previously been outside in two years. Sure, it's a little annoying to be constantly listening to the whine of the cat as they rough-house, it's irritating to clean up the little puddles that happen when you're just too worn out to remember that he probably has to go (AGAIN!). It's constant. There's nothing half-way about having a spanking-new puppy in the house. It's everything, it's everywhere, and it's 24/7 all the time, baby, no time for time off, cause it's about to shit all over the floor.
So, naturally, I suggested taking the pup down the street for a little dog-on-dog bonding so I could have the place to myself for a few blessed moments' respite from the... Well, from the constantness of it all.
And now I'm lonely.