It’s been a long week. I completely intended on calling in sick and taking a, you know, mental health day from work just because I’m tired of being here. But the insufferable guilt set in as my alarm clock went off and nary a muscle did ache, so how could I call in and feign ill? I couldn’t. Damn it. So here I am. Nothing to do but to sit here and look like I’m working when really I’m counting the hours to 4:00. (Only 7 more hours to go. Great.)

I’m telling you, the PMS this week has been a killer. I’ve been moody, irritable, weepy, and downright miserable. I wish the aunt would just hurry up and get here so I can get it over with and see what next month brings (uh, ovulation would be nice!). What a horrible blog entry. Sorry.

Here’s some pictures to put you in a better mood.

Cambridge lounging.


Cat and mouse games.


Play time.


Eddie before he got lost 10 minutes after I gave him to Neville. (He kind of gets hairy after being batted all over my house.)


My smart husband.


The marathon this weekend is officially off. Huz’s calf muscle is torn and can’t handle a 26 mile race, so he looked up more marathons that will be taking place in the next few months and will try again then. We’re going to make up for it by going to a nice, romantic restaurant this weekend. I’m looking forward to it.