Why Yes

Oh, hello there! So you thought that I had fallen off the face of blogland, right? Well, I didn't. I wish I could say that I've been so busy I haven't even had time to THINK, but unfortunately, I have just been lazy. No more though! I am turning over a new leaf - promise.

I also wish I could tell you about all the exciting things that hubby and I have been doing. But, again, unfortunately, that is not possible because our lives consist of pretty normal, every day things, only right now we're doing those things in oppressive South Carolina August humidity. It's like you can drink the air down here. It will be that way until October, guarantee it.

In other news...I still haven't cleaned out my Jeep (see "laziness" remark, above) and exercise has become a distant memory. The walk in from the humid air is enough exertion to make you gasp for (liquid) air, so I prefer to stay (seated) indoors with an industrial air conditioner, or, if I must take myself outside, a body of water needs to be within jumping in distance.

And in dog news...the wall eating dog is back. Hubby actually fixed the areas where she had decided to gnaw into the sheetrock and low and behold, she did it again...in the same spot. I don't get it. Does the wall taste like a bottle of Reisling or something? If so, then I'll join the dog. But I'm thinking it tastes more like, well, wall...so I'm still unsure of why she's so obsessed with it. Our other dog decided that he couldn't wait to empty his bladder and instead of doing it on the floor where we could actually clean it up, he let it fly on the sofa. And it soaked all the way in.

YEAH.

We decided to chuck the sofa...and may it rest in peace at the county dump. As of now, our living room looks like a poor college kid's. Oh wait, technically one half of our marriage is still in school, so that makes sense. We're not inviting people over unless they want to sit on the floor because we don't have seating. Like, for real...we do not have seating in our living room. We did salvage the loveseat (which is now the focus of both dogs' obsessive tendencies, but luckily not their bladders), but any visitor count over two will have to commune on the floor with us.

Kumbaya.