Every morning now I get up and go to work and Sammy Dog goes to prison. Sammy is a good boy but not trustworthy enough to be allowed to wander all day. We have a child proof gate that keeps him in the kitchen, the prison. And he has a new prison bed. He does not like the prison, not at all. When I get home he is all over me until he comes in from peeing. Then he is like, I don't think so mama.
The job is fine but the feet are killing me, today was about 7 hours of walking on the cement and just after I get better this week, the plant shuts down for 2 weeks. I better walk every day on the cement to keep this up.
I gave up on all the shopping that was becoming tedious and went back to the Internet, I ordered new shoes and socks and Sephora and the dress for the wedding. I was tired of the run around and found the maker of the dress in Los Angeles, it is made (sewn) in L.A. for I figure it is our own illegal aliens doing the sweat shop labor but at least the money stays in the local economy. I hope it fits or I might end up wearing jeans.
My haircut is a horror story and I refuse to look at it or discuss the ugly hairdo. If it does not grow out a bit before the wedding I will be wearing a hat.