4:15pm Saturday. Approximately 37 hours left of vacation.

Z and I have been sick for days. Sick sick. The kind of sick that sticks you to the couch. Or the bed. Or the floor. I started this week off with a mile long list of things I was so excited to do. Now I'm running through the list and picking out things that can be done in a stationary position and in short bursts.

But I'm not feeling sorry for myself. At least not too much.
Resolution: Check my attitude. Continually.

Too bad I can't enforce that one on the dog. We have raised a naughty dog. She has a bad attitude about us leaving the house and is very lucky that we aren't the type to spank her. Yet. God help her when I get a web cam and a robotic fly swatter, for she is a bad dog.