It took me for-fucking-ever to drive over to my first client’s house today. It’s Uptown Art Fair weekend and that means trying to get in or out of the ‘hood is ssssssupppppperrrrrrrr sssssslllllooooowwwwww. Once I finally reached the house, I realized I’d not brought the key. After bashing my head on the steering wheel and screaming a bit, I started back home and again it took me for-fucking-ever. I finally got home, got the key and set out on the slooooooow trek again. Normally driving is ok, cuz I listen to what ever audio book or podcasts I have on my mp3 player and it’s all good…but the book ended part way to the house and I was left with nothing to listen to. Finally reaching the house again, I went in and got the first two dogs out of the crates and on their leashes (I’m a professional pet sitter, btw). The third dog went wild when I let her out of the crate and in the ensuing wrestling match she peed on me. Oh, joy. No paper towels, so I splashed water from the kitchen sink on my legs and took the dogs outside. The wrestling, peeing on me dog kept jumping up and raking her hundreds of razor sharp claws on the back of my bare legs. More joy. I went back out to my car to grab something and smashed one of my fingers in the screen door. Are you picturing all this? Here let me help you: I’m an hour behind schedule, pissed on, water running down my legs along with welts and my finger is smashed.

Sometimes it just doesn’t pay to chew through the straps…