How dreadful it all must seem from the outside. I keep finding myself in unpleasant places, and I know I'm not good company. I think it's a good thing I live alone. I'm trying desperately to come up with happy stories, and they are harder to come by as the days go by. I have to start wondering how much my sleep schedule is playing into the moodiness. I stay up way too late, and I am useless in the mornings. It's worth making an effort to move my schedule to the left a little bit. I'm writing early, brief though it is, turning in early, and hoping for a quick adjustment (maybe by next weekend). Wish me luck. Or maybe wish me sweet dreams.
I spent all day today cleaning house again. Nothing really to take pictures of. But I did make a run for dog food last night, and came home with a couple of the good bones. As soon as I walked in the house with a particularly meaty-smelling plastic bag, there were two doggies who gave me all of their attention. Behold, the only picture worth showing for today:
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