Finally, a real post. So much to talk about. Let's start with the new puppy, and how pictures are just not as cute as the real thing. She is my girl, no doubt. She has a place on my pillow every night, and sleeps there till I get up about 3:45 to go to work in the morning, then she's asleep soon after our first trip outside. I came in this morning, as I do each morning, taking a quick break form work to let her out, and found that she had figured out how to open the kennel she has been staying in. I found her asleep on my shirt that was laying in the floor. I was frantically serching the floor for little puppy accidents, chewed wires, shoes or other important items, but found none. She just wanted to lay in front of the radio I leave on for her so she can hear my voice every day. Oh amazingly cute is that? I think my heart will explode. I tell everyone that I bought my puppy for my birthday present, which is tomorrow, March 8th( but more on that in a bit). Though she is a delightful b-day gift, she's more company that I could have imagined. I don't seem to mind that being in bed at 8 pm leaves me no social life, that I spend most of my time wathcing over my grandmother, and not much time with people my own age, and I don't even seem to mind that my CowBoy Man is never around, and just about the time I'm going to bed, he's getting done with work. No, indeed, I have a little brown eyed blessing that needs me, that doesn't let me think about how lonely it has been these last few months.
Which brings me to tomorrow. It's my birthday. Can I admit that I have never felt more alone on my personal annual holiday? By the next paragraph of this post I'll be back to my old self, finding the good in all that my life is now, and being thankful I have not done anything stupid to get my self killed up to this point. But for this paragraph, I am sad that there will be no flowers on my desk tomorrow. I never though I would be without at least a few friends to celebrate with. Even birthday cake is off limits, the whole low carb thing!
Enough of that. I'll buy my own flowers. And who says I can't start cocktail hour at the local dive, throw out a few beers to those around me, and make new friends? I'm afraid it doesn't do for me to feel sorry for myself. We have a great radio show planned for tomorrow, I'm off work by noon ( aka the official start of the famed cocktail hour) and I have that little sleeping puppy that needs me. Besides, I look horrid after a good cry, so there's need for that either. No, indeed, it's my birthday, and that gives me all the reasons in the world to shop for myself, drink girlie drinks, sing kereoke to complete strangers, and not care at all. I think a birthday cupcake would be ok too.
I should treat everyday like my birthday.
ps, pictures of the new baby soon!
