I just needed light bulbs. But I walk into Rite Aid on a PMS rage and starving. I’ve been dieting and sweet potatoes with melted marshmallows aren’t cuting it anymore.
Then my stinky ass Boston Terrier ate part of a hard-boiled egg my oldest didn’t want. I’m sure that I’ll be in that bastard’s dutch oven tonight. I wish I didn’t feel sorry for them being alone all day and didn’t let them sleep with me. The dogs, that is. Jake is a bed hog and likes to kick, slap, and punch.