Robbed

I don't know where it's gone.  It must have been stolen.  I am not sure when I last saw it, and I don't think it'll turn up at a pawn shop.

I am talking about my energy.  It up and left.  I can't be bothered to do the simplest things.  The dryer?  It just dinged and I need to put some sheets on the bed before my mother in law arrives tonight.  Cannot.  Be.  bothered.  Todd was cooking dinner, and I was lounging on the couch.  I had the nerve to get annoyed with him for asking me to get him something.  Really?  The man is cooking!  For me!  Could I be any less grateful?

I've been training for a 10K race that will happen in May.  I've been steadily running 4 miles pretty consistently these last few weeks.  Yesterday I took the run outside, and couldn't even get through 1 mile.  Not even 1!  I bailed after 2 miles and went home.  How the hell am I going to get through 6 miles when I can't get through 1?!

Then my co-worker emailed this picture to me yesterday.  And I think she might be right.

I don't take my computer to bed.  But the beagley one ends up in bed with us.  So this is what I wrote back to her: 

They only steal sleep when they…

1. incessantly claw at the blankets demanding to be let underneath
2. crawl out from under the blanket 15 minutes later
3. lick your face
4. apply a cold wet nose to whatever human body part extends out from under the covers—usually your butt
5. lick the carpet incessantly
6. lick themselves incessantly, because all species need a thorough bath at 3 AM
7. tilt their head upward and lick, apparently, nothing
8. sit on your neck
9. shove their business end up by your pillow
10. claw at their dog bed to make it just a bit fluffier
11. kick you when they dream about fetching, swimming, chasing, or whatever they love to do

And now it's approaching 8 PM, and the bed is looking pretty good about now.