Whoopsie Daisy

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It is nearing 4 am. I am awake enjoying a PB&J and a glass of milk. I am up partially because of Co and our love affair with the bathroom at this point in the pregnancy, but I stayed awake because when I got up I was surprised by a mess. Our poor little dog, Daisy, was sick all in the hall (the one that leads to the bathroom). I, of course stepped in it. I had to wake Mark-o up to help me…I couldn’t see anything because I didn’t have on my glasses and I can no longer reach the bottom of my foot. So Mark-o cleaned the hall and my foot. It just makes me laugh, because a few hours ago I was crying and so sad about Mark-o’s recent detachment (and upcoming surgery) and I was spiraling because of the uncertainty of our future and now it doesn’t seem like that big of deal. Apparently life just goes on…our dog will get sick because she eats weird things, our cats will force us to love them, and our baby is on his way. It all seemed so overwhelming yesterday because of the eye, Mark-o’s employment, our taxes, our baby, and whatever else I could think about seemed to all happen at once. Yes, yesterday was hard and tomorrow might be hard too, but it will be just fine. The reality is that our life is very good…we are healthy (minus that damn eye), we are financially stable, we are loved, and I have a large supply of items for PB&J and milk any time I am in the mood…what else do you really need? I guess I just needed our neurotic, sick to her stomach, dog to put it all in perspective. Thanks, Daisy.

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