Random Esquire

I believe I am crabby. I blame this. It is an entry with a recipe in which the first instruction is: Casually dice 4 cloves of garlic. How does one dice garlic casually? I suppose, from my comment to the entry, it is evident that I was crabby prior to the casual dicing comment. Of course, the “throw in some very strong red wine” had pushed me over the edge.

I hope this does not carry over into tomorrow because I’ve already received e-mails that require my response and I really do not need to respond with something less than professional. Like, “Why are you so stupid, stupid?”

I have been entertaining the idea of using my (soon to be) old Sonicare toothbrush head on Little Filthy. I do not want to tell Boss but I think I have to. I don’t want to tell Boss because she will think I am crazy. I have to because I am rather sure Little Filthy won’t be my dental patient willingly. He yawned earlier today and I was treated to a view that left me reminding myself that his lack of lip control really prevents the possibility of a mouth rinse.

Because Boss was out of town this weekend, I: a) went to Costco and almost lost my mind, b) let Little Filthy nap on the bed next to me, c) worked four hours on Saturday, d) played with my Treo 650, old friend, and e) played piano.

Shower just stopped. I smell soap. And lotion. And girl. Less crabby.