When you’re staring at the ceiling at 1:00 am. I think it must be a cosmic law that anything that rolls through your head in the wee hours when you’re in bed is going to be bad. I poo-poo all the people who claim artistic inspiration at that hour. Maybe if you’re still up and at ’em, but not when you’ve already tucked away beneath the blankets. That when gremlins attack…

Of course, it did not help that my black dog decided to puke his guts up on the bed. Not on a blanket, either, which could have been tossed in the hamper and situation solved. No, he had to hit the sheets, plural – fitted and flat – so the bed had to been re-made. Now, he’d been napping on the couch for several hours before I called bedtime, but apparently decided to wait until I tenderly put him on his traditional spot in my bed before he gave me his little present.

After the great cleaning up, sleep was just not on the agenda. That bit of stress cracked open the dam and a watershed of it came pouring out. I finally gave up around 4:00 am, kicked on the TV for some Man From U.N.C.L.E. episodes until it was time to take the dogs out for their morning constitutional. With the day already frazzled, I went ahead and fought the spiders that had colonized the bags of yard waste I’d stashed in the garage before the painting project and hauled the bags to the compost station. Two trips and probably a lung full of mold and spider eggs for my trouble, but at least that job can be checked off the list. Yeehah…

Saw this on the Internet a few minutes ago. Gotta say, that’s the cutest monkey I think I’ve ever seen…

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