And that's how MY day started...

I woke up, nestled in a burrito of air mattress.

At some point during the night, a hole was poked, leaving me on the floor, but the sides were still full of air, and were cocooning me in.

This must be how improper use can be fatal, because I had to roll my fat ass over the hills to get out of the damn thing.

Of course, it happens the night I tell my friend how great the air mattress is to sleep on.

And so goes another $65 waste of money to buy a new one.

I haven't blogged in a while. Just been getting settled in and motivating myself to stop catching up on three weeks of missed cable, in order to put together Ikea furniture.

Oh, how it unravels me in to a swearing, sweaty mess, covered in tiny bits of styrofoam that never fully come off!! And fighting with the empty boxes, only to end up slicing them up so they fit in my recycling bin.

I need an alcoholic beverage and a sound nap between each piece of furniture.

My neighbors have two dogs that are left outside 80% of the time, and they bark to the point that I've almost committed myself. I have two dogs, always had dogs and love them.

But the dogs I've been around shut the fuck up most of the time, unless the hear the doorbell ring on tv. I can deal with that.

But these dogs make me sneak around my house, because if I crack a window or turn on a light, it sets them off for a good two hours.

After debating what to do..talk to the owners who I haven't yet met, call animal control, poison them...I posted an anonymous orange sticky note on their garage, saying, "I feel like a giant dick, but your dogs are driving me insane. Can you please do what the rest of us do, and cage them up in your house when you're at work so that I can have some quiet?"

I'm sure they know it was me. But I wish that they have had complaints before so that maybe they don't know it was me.

And then today....EUREKA! It rained. And so my hypothesis is now that the the little fuckers are Mogui and can't get wet, because I haven't heard a peep all evening.

Thus, my new plan is to turn the hose on the little bastards during the day to shut them up, or force a coordinated retreat in to their garage.

Other than that, I believe no longer that I am becoming asexual. Since moving out here, I've managed to cut my anxiety medicine by two thirds, thus reawakening my sex drive, dormant as its been for the better part of three years.

Yes, my Vagine (pronounced "VA-JEAN) is coming back to life!

And that is the thought I will leave you with tonight.