It dawned on me, around 3 this morning, that I have a shitload of work to do. And on top of that, I believe that I wont get the funding I need for my next semester. Still not sure WTF is going on with that. I should ask someone. Let’s add that to our list of things to do. Here’s the list, just for school, as it stands now:

1. Finish writing the last chapters of my novel
2. Edit said chapters
3. Finish all the reading for school
4. Blog about the books I read
5. Ask someone about my financial aid

I have two weeks to complete that. Then, we have our normal, everyday things to do. You know:

• Feed the beasts
• Try not to kill beasts for being beastly.
• Work, every day
• Workout - at least 4 times a week
• Sleep, somehow
• Cook, because D won’t. He told me it’s safer for everyone involved. I think he just doesn’t want to.

While I am prone to panic, I’m trying not to. But this is fair warning to all my lovely online, school, and IRL friends - I will be a hermit for the next 2 weeks.

Text - do not call.

Text - do not e-mail.

Did I mention texting? If you don’t have my number - I guess you can e-mail me. No guarantees though. Oh, and I live on Twitter these days. It’s the easiest way to keep an eye on me (a nice way of saying spying).

D and I had a nice weekend, considering I spend a vast majority of it on the couch, with a dog, fighting for room and my blanket while I edited Calie’s stuff (her novel is fucking amazing). We found a new restaurant, pissed off Voodoo, walked the beasties, worked on homework, and talked.

D and I spent a lovely Friday dinner at The Blue Olive. We intended on venturing to a wine bar down the street, but balked when I saw how little vegetarian food they had. D and I were really freaking hungry. When we walked through the door, a dark haired woman with nice glasses greeted us. The dining room was mostly empty, but two tables were full of diners, loudly enjoying their plates of food. D and I both selected the Mediterranean platters - with hummus, pita, falafel, a Greek salad (full of cucumbers and tomatoes), roasted potatoes and a spinach and feta pastry (I know the name, my brain is misfiring at the moment. Need more coffee). The falafel - to die for. Crunchy, warm, well flavored, and the tzatziki reminded me of a place I used to go to in Miami. The hummus, a heaping helping of it, was seasoned beautifully thick and creamy. Honestly, there was a lot of food on the plate, although it didn’t look like much when we started. We also had a Malbec (yes I forgot the name of that too), which the owner had just added to the menu. D and I waddled out of there - overstuffed and blissfully happy.

On Saturday, we made a boo boo. Since we moved, we had a queen sized bed. It wasn’t that bad, but it started hurting D’s back. Then Pip decided he was supposed to sleep with us. I wouldn’t necessarily let him into bed, but he snuck under the covers - all stealthy ninja like. He’s a ninja beagle - I’ve said it before. So, I would wake up, sweating, because a 10000 degree beagle had wrapped himself around my feet. I also have a very different sleeping schedules.  The moral of the story is that I sleep on the couch a lot. Being that he gets up at 5, I don’t want to wake him. But we are tired of sleeping apart. He was tired of the never ending back ache. So, we went to look at beds.

Which means, we bought a bed.

I don’t know why I can’t just say “Hey, we are just shopping.” I think I’m allergic to sales people. The guy wasn’t an ass. He didn’t push the 3k bed on us (thank god, because I would have smacked him). We got a great deal on a king size bed.

Problem?

Yes. Puck is having a hard time jumping up to the bed. I know we don’t want the dogs sleeping with us, but they usually crash in the bedroom while we are gone. Puck has his own bed next to ours (he refuses to sleep with us), but I feel bad. He’s just not as sprightly as he used to be. And the bed is freaking tall. I used to laugh at the infomercials, but we are buying doggy stairs. If you call my dog geriatric, I will find you and thrash you with his lobster toy.

In other mundane and painfully boring news - I bought a crock pot! It’s been in the box for about a week. I really should do something with it.

Did I mention that I only have 2 weeks to finish all this stuff.

Let the panic begin!