Excuse me, but have you seen the White Rabbit?

I feel like I've been hit over the head with a sledge hammer. My boss is leaving for two weeks to go to Hawaii. *insert barfing noise* I only have about two gillion things to do. About four lists each with their own myriad of bullets to be done while NH is out of the office. Before the big khahuna left today, she came in my office and (yes, I do call it my office now that Lori is gone... I miss her, we had some good times in here) with her hands on my shoulders says to me:

"I really appreciate the fact that I can leave and know that things will be taken care of by you. I don't even need to be here! I guess this means I don't have to come back ever again!"

Does this mean I can have your paycheck Naomi? This is how I would interpret the situation...

I didn't sleep last night at all. I think I woke up about every hour. My Sydney slept with me. I had banned her from sleeping with me for awhile because she was shoving me out of bed. We were battling each other at night. I wasn't getting any rest and neither was she. But I've been letting her sleep with me periodically lately. Last night I should have put her up. But I didn't and here's why:

I'm going to have to give my Sydney up. *deep sigh* Yeah. The GreatBeef and I are moving into an apartment together (the house thing is just not going to work out) and none of the ones I've looked at will accept a dog with pitbull or bull terrier mix in them. How irritating. I know it's for the best. This isn't the first time I've thought about it either. It's just hard. I got her the day after I filed papers. We needed each other and if I give her up now I'll feel like I used her and left her. How terrible is that?!

Ug. Last night I was doing the dishes (I swear, does my roommate think the dishwasher is broken or something??????) and Sydney was hanging around. I kept thinking to myself, "This is not your dog anymore L. It isn't. She is someone else's now. You are merely keeping her for the time being until they come to get her. She is not your dog."

I know it's dumb. But it's like a mantra: She is not your dog anymore. I've got to get used to the idea or I'll cry a river (probably will anyway) when the day comes to take her to a new home.

Oy. New home.

Anyway, it will be for the better. Dad is researching pitbull rescue associations since most places won't accept pitbulls. We'll see if he has any luck.

It's pathetic that I cried over this yesterday. Cuddles died and now I have to give up Sydney. Dad said he has a small dog (really small) that looks alot like a german shepard, really cute that I could have if if would make me feel better, just to have the company. But I don't know. I'm not sure that would solve any problems. However, Beef would be home more than me. Maybe... oh good grief! What's my problem!?!?!?

You know, it's not that Sydney is a problem. She's just WAY to big. She eats too much and is WAY to big. A small dog would be o.k.

WHAT AM I DOING? Mercy me. I am such a sucker. Just like my Dad.

And I have to find a new apartment and move and get couches (cause I have none) and get a new job (cause I found out I can't get the raise I need here) and I need to re-vamp my resume (so I can actually get a new job) and I need to make a budget (me and numbers are like Alice in Wonderland - all screwed up) and I NEED SOME MIGRAINE MEDS NOW!!!!

In fact, I'm going to take my 15 minute break at 3 pm and run to Target and get the Amerge. Yeah. I NEED to do that cause we got paid today and I actually have the money for it now. PRAISE GOD. Then maybe I can get my lists organized and prioritize things.


Wow. I have a lot going on.