Trials and tribulations

I'm sitting here on my desk, coffee beside me, blustery spring day just outside the window in front of me, puppy under my feet.
It is a calm, peaceful morning. The calm after the storm.
Yesterday was a gong show.
Which is perfect for linking up again with the feisty and adorable Kathy for Humpday Confessions!

It started out with my spunky, up-to-no-good puppy scratching on our bedroom door at the ungodly hour of 6am. After barely 5 hours of sleep, I am not at my best. (Understatement of the century.)
I tried to ignore her, but it didn't work; she just kept on scratching, and I couldn't fall back asleep. So I let her in; once she was inside, sleep time was over.
That puppy is crazy. Caraazzyyy!!
You remember how I sometimes share photos of her where she looks cute and composed?
Something like that:

Please disregard the dirty door. It's all the puppy's fault. She also eats my homework. :-)

Do you know how hard it is to get one of these? I have to eliminate at least 10 terrible photos for every 1 halfway decent one - blurry, head cut off, just her bum, her looking down. 

Have a look: 

And these are not the worst ones. 

Lily has entered the precarious state of teenagehood/pre-PMS. In other words, we believe that she will be in heat soon. Her first period is upon us shortly! As much as I dread it (any advice out there? Do I strap on a little kid's tighty whitey? Stick on a maxi mini pad? Diapers? Seriously, any advice is highly appreciated.), I almost hope that's the reason for her recent behaviour. PMS I understand. Girl, I get it, we are all sisters in blood here. Hormones have their way with us and we are just along for the ride. 

If it's not PMS we have a problem.

Before I start ranting, please know how much I love that dog. She's my baby, my partner-in-crime, my daily source of amusement and laughter. We kiss frequently, she showers with me - this all starts to sound like a dirty movie, yelp! Moving on.

To get back on topic: She's a real brat lately. Testing her boundaries and our patience. Where before she would willingly go out as soon as we called her (and/or used a treat as a bribe), she now lays down, cocks her head and challenges: "Come make me!". And try we do. Oh how we try. 

You want to know how it ended yesterday? With her doing a running pee across the entire kitchen, ending in an elegant swoop on the living room carpet.

Calling her is a game of "catch me if you can": She will come almost to hand's reach, just to dart away in a delightful game of catch.

Corg-monster, this is not a game! I call, you come, capiche?! 

We are working on it.

Okay, let's move on to rant #2. 

Work. 

source

I blame it all on the moon. Anybody working in a hospital, on the streets, fighting fires or rescuing traffic victims will agree: full moons are the worst. They draw out the crazies. No myth, it's a fact.
And yesterday we had a "blood moon". Oh, you missed that? Well, it's basically a lunar eclipse, but with the sunlight scattered through the earth's atmosphere, making the moon look red. (I hope I got it right.)

We hospital workers don't really care about the specifics. All we care about is how our shifts will go. And during full moons? They go badly.

Nothing is easy. You run around. You sweat. You have to wear protective gear/lead vests way more than usual. Even your bum is sweating.
Patients may vomit on you. Or worse.
They may swear, or try to run off, or simply be very, very difficult. Everything you fear that may go wrong?
It will go wrong.

My only advice is: Don't work on a full moon.

Have anything you need to get off your chest? Link up with Kathy!

xoxo Miriam