One week down, an untold number of weeks to go

Hey. That was sort of fun. It did not actually cause me physical harm to 1) not wear a grubby t-shirt every day of the week, 2) make my lunch, 3) work for a prescribed number of hours, 4) try to get my head back into medical stuff, 5) keep working in the evening even when I am really tired, or 6) not spend many many hours with Dylan for a few days. I am finding that anything I knew reasonably well before I stopped med school is coming back very quickly, while anything I was shaky on is gone entirely.

Speaking of work, I just got an e-mail, at 3:30pm on the Friday before Labor Day Weekend, with proofs for an article I am working on that wants them back, corrected, within 48 hours. Hm. Good thing we don't like to do anything fun around here anyway.

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Snuffy is so smart it is UNREAL. He doesn't usually get all excited when we get back to the house from a walk unless I tell him Aaron is home. Today Aaron wasn't there when we left, but had gotten home as we went around the block. I didn't do or say ANYTHING, but he still knew Aaron was home from the car being in the driveway and started Snuffing around happily until I let him in. I feel like he would be put to better use being a therapy dog or herding sheep or something other than his current use, which is to take up all the space in our bed at night and look meaningfully at us if we don't take him out to play enough.

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Dyan LOVES the new room at daycare. I saw a bunch of two-year-olds for well child checks this week, one of whom tried to lift up my pants to pinch my ankles because I wouldn't let him escape the room. By the end of his visit I had a large pile of stuff on the counter that I had had to confiscate because he was wailing on me with it. So, Dylan, thank you for not physically abusing me at every opportunity, like some of your peers.