I'm Not Allowed to Talk About It

First, why if I put clean sheets on the bed (straight out of the dryer) an hour ago did I pull the covers back just now to find a live spider in the bed?

Second, if you know you're developing an uncontrollable cough and share a bed with someone every night, why don't you pick up some cough syrup?

Third, I'm not allowed to talk about the fact that we're not getting a dining room table from Kinder's furniture tomorrow - the Jafron model for only $498. I'm not allowed to write about the fact that we WILL be getting a 46 inch Samsung LCD TV. Even if I have to order it my damn self. I'm not allowed to talk about the fact that I'm not cooking shit for Thanksgiving dinner or that when Cody and Carla come to visit in December, they will have to sleep on the floor (or on the new TV since according to some, Cody will be okay with it). I'm not allowed to write about the TV not being able to suffice as a honeymoon or that I'll apparently just have to wait until my second marriage before I take that sort of trip. I'm not allowed to talk about the fact that the money isn't mine, even though it's in a savings account that Joe can technically only get to if I'm dead. I'm not allowed to talk about the fact that I'm going to get my own job AGAIN, make my own money AGAIN, pay off MY debt instead of JOE's and buy the rest of the stuff needed to settle in this house. I'm not allowed to talk about the fact that most of the stuff in this house that Joe pays the rent on came from me or my family. Or the fact that I scouted out this house, managed the money to be set aside for the deposit and first month's rent, and set up the renter's insurance for it. And since I'm not allowed to talk about it, I won't.

Dex is doing better. He didn't growl or bite today, and I took a kleenex away from him twice. Later, I even stuck my fingers down his throat to retrieve what I discovered to be an acorn. No problem. Perhaps this is because whenever he does get in a bad way, he is separated from the pack immediately and is left that way for what probably seems like an eternity to him (approx. 20 minutes outside). Additionally, every meal for the last week has been hand-fed to him. He may not even touch the hand with food in it until a verbal command is given. Further, while he's eating from the hand, a verbal command is given randomly for him to stop eating mid-chew. If this command isn't followed, he won't get any more food until it is. Booya. He's doing better it seems, but who knows. We're still going to do some obedience training with a professional. Since we spent our time out today looking at tables that we're not going to buy, we didn't have time to go to PetSmart. But we will tomorrow since we won't be buying any tables from Kinder's Furniture. Oh, and Dex still won't walk in the neighborhood unless we're both present, but Joe did manage to take him to the park today so I could spend a few lovely uninterrupted hours cleaning. The dream, right ladies?

The muffler seems to be rusting out on my car. So that's neat. Part of me is really pissed off that every time I turn around, my car is fucking up. I also now have a transmission leak, and it's getting harder for my car to go in and out of gears. Fuck. But about the muffler. I figure I'll just leave it, and it'll be my gift to this fine city of Columbus. I'd actually like to have the house/vehicles go ahead and be broken into, so I'm not so anxious about it anymore. But I guess I won't be able to shoot an intruder with the new TV...