Today I woke up. That was the first mistake.

I discovered, shortly after a good start to the morning, that my dog had peed all over my favorite (read: only) leather jacket. Enough that the carpet had to be sopped up with a towel. No, I did not kill him. Yes, it was an exceedingly close call.

After this, I decided that it would be best for the dog and I to leave the house on some errands and so that, if I did decide to kill him, I could throw him from a speeding car. I discovered a short time later that I was hungry. I went to Wal-Mart anyway. I bought what I needed which was all more expensive than I was planning.

Then I was really hungry so I decided to grab a Coke (as a reward for the dog still being alive) and a McMuffin. I did this. Feeling better. I turned right and another car decided to turn left at the same moment. I slammed on the brakes and the Coke (of course, a large) dumps into my "lap." Now I'm on the road so there isn't much I can do other than pull into the first parking lot (3 blocks later) and blot the 2 drops not absorbed into my "lap" with the only napkin they gave me. I do this.

We proceed to drive out to Blue Mountain (pictures available on the other blog) where we need to wait for Saundra and Matt with Sue. Duke, as usual, is a mess around other dogs. But not just any dogs. Boy dogs. Yes, it's true. My dog is gay. There's not a question. I'm fine. It's his life. But you'd think he would be able to contain his behavior when we're in public. He can't. And of course, he chooses to aim his "love" in the direction of a golden lab belonging to the only man (hot!) in the whole place. Of course, the rest of the people all had female dogs. You see my point.

Several moments later when the lab had finally tried to kill Duke, the hot man and his straight dog got in the car to go. Then Sue, Saundie and Matt got there. Duke proceeded to run around without regard to a single command, as usual. My stress level was not usual by this point and the silence and beauty was frequently broken by bellows to which Duke managed to remain oblivious. At the end of the run we had more fun trying to get him into the car. That accomplished, I figured it would be better for me to burn off some steam before I headed home with him.

So. The Gym. Usually a quiet, adult filled place. Not today. Today there where children all over the locker room. Male children. Not under 3. This hurdle passed and I got into the pool. Every time I took a break to change equipment, the sweet lady next to me insisted on talking to me about how great things were when "kids and people who couldn't afford it weren't allowed in." I got out of the pool after 20 mins and decided to shower.

While I was in the pool an edict had gone out to overweight women everywhere (of which I am one and, therefore, allowed to talk about.) This edict had dictated that they should pick a locker near mine and be naked and chatting when I arrived back at my locker. Normally this wouldn't bother me but it was the 5-6 male children of about the same age that really got to me. Especially when we started an anatomy discussion. I tried not to be rude and I growled and threatened to kick one.

Back in the car (wet, cold and more pissed--if possible--than when I got into the gym), we head home and realize that maybe one of the underlying stress points is the dirt, hair and mice that seem to be inhabiting my car. At this moment, the gas light goes on. We miss the next 48 gas stations due to traffic and my increasing stress. When we do arrive at one it's the most expensive in the state. We don't care, of course, because it's gas. We have become we now to cope with the stress.

We drive to a car wash where 3 other people with dogs are also washing their cars. Picture trying to vacuum while a leash is between your legs to avoid having Duke saunter over to pick up on the pitbull in the next car. As soon as the first three layer of hair are removed, I (see--less stress=less people in my head) pull forward into the carwash (not remembering, of course, that my dog has never been in one in the 11 years he's spent on the planet) where Duke jumps onto my lap and pees a little in fright. We're breathing steadily now as we try to find the peaceful place that the clean floor mats helped us find. Then the men who dry the car opened the door and helped me catch Duke as he made a bid for freedom.

As we drove home we came back to I as I decided that there were several hundred things with more grave consequences that could have happened during the day. Duke and I were both alive. We both had a chance to start again tomorrow. And home was on the horizon. As we pulled up, I finally had my anger pretty much under control. Then I opened my mailbox.

My heating bill had arrived. I was excited to open it since I've been freezing to death with the thermostat on 60, shrink-wrapped windows and generally conserving every bit of energy I can. I opened it to find that the bill was significantly higher than last month. All they would like is an arm, a leg, two of my future children for slave labor and a pint or three of blood.

I have now retreated to the virtual world. I 'm snuggled up in my bed, the dog is in his crate, I'm blogging away my anger and then I'm going to cry myself to sleep.

What did I learn from today? Ladies and Gentlemen, when you feel like it's a bad idea to get out of bed--believe in yourselves. Paula Abdul lies.