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A good night of rest is key to my survival, and mostly the survival of others. I get grumpy, FINE grumpier, when I’m tired.
I got shit for sleep last night, and that bitch I live with is to blame. My dog somehow found a way to open my lower kitchen cabinet without opposable thumbs. Here she found a giant Costco sized bag of dried cheese tortellini pasta, and proceeded to eat half the bag. When I got home at midnight I found the mess. Too tired to yell, I just cleaned up, let her out and went to bed.
Around 2:00 a.m. she woke me up and needed to be let out. In a zombie state I stumbled down the stairs and let her outside. She took care of business and I went back to bed.
Then again around 3:30 a.m. we made the same trip. And then again at 4:45 a.m.! Finally at 5:30 a.m. when she woke me up for the last time I lost it. I yelled at her, and then cried because I was simply exhausted, proving I should never, ever be a parent. Or a dog owner.
In fact, I decided I was a cat person. I can overlook my extreme allergy. Who cares if I can’t breathe and 90% of my body will be covered in hives? Not me. I want an animal trained to use a litter box.
Now I just have to go home and tell this cute face I’m breaking up with her. Luckily for her my follow through is total crap.
