…that I shouldn’t go to Yulblog tonight?

This morning I wore my favorite suit, and walked two blocks to where my car was parked. See, last night those little “snow removal” were hung on my street. But of course, by this morning they still hadn’t cleared the road despite the signs.

I got to my car and stepped over a huge pile of snow, and in doing so ripped my skirt right down the front middle. To hell with that, I said, I’m clearing the car with ripped skirt and I’ll drive it back home to change.

Clear the car, drive back, get inside in time to see doggie scrunch down for a poop. Hey, you know better than that! Grab her to get her to the paper, but as I’m getting her there she sprays all over the dining room.

Hey, wait a second, that’s blood.

Call the vet, who thinks I should bring her in right away. Drive through a storm to the South Shore, as puppy howls in fear. Turns out it’s probably just a minor infection.

Spectacular projectile blood shitting to me, minor infection to him.

Finally get to work at 11 am, and I find out my transfer request has been refused, by my boss’ boss. They want me to stay here though I have nothing to do, because they are convinced (as they have been for a year) that things will pick up.

So… this is the kind of evening to curl up with a blanket, a boyfriend and a sick puppy (after washing all the floors (and her ass) with vinegar), and watch a few more episodes of 24 on DVD.