...trying to murder an insect. It ended up flying into my eyeball, getting stuck to my contact lens, which I took out and ripped into pieces before throwing it in the grass.
Then I came home to an apartment smelling like bologna. THERE IS NO BOLOGNA HERE. Why? BECAUSE I HATE IT.
Lulu has a new hobby. It's called, let's eat any pen, sharpie, or SHOE in sight.
A picture frame fell off of our bedroom wall last night. In the middle of the night. I remember hearing it, and was so out of it that I didn't care. Then, Jeremy started shaking me, asking what that noise was. Dude, I do not care. Clearly, there is no one in here. This was a few hours after he saw a daddy long legs on our ceiling, and started shrieking at me to shoot it before it crawled down our 11-foot ceilings to kill him. Have I mentioned that he whimpers A LOT when any creepy crawly thing is in his general vicinity? No? Well, he does.
This is what I deal with.