Hi, I Need a Second

to breathe or chug a glass of wine or something.

I can't believe it's Thursday already. Sunday night seems like it was so, so long ago...but it was so great.

PhillyGuy and I had big plans of grilling fish for dinner. He picked up some fresh sea bass at Whole Foods. I was doing something when he came home - walking the dogs, or doing laundry? I don't remember. I DO remember coming out into the living room when he got there to see a bit of a spread.

"I picked us up some snacks to have while we watch the game."



Um, yes. Some snacks.



No one should ever try to reduce the fat in guacamole. This wasn't awful or anything, but it wasn't great.



THIS, however, was great. And not in any way, shape, or form reduced fat.



The chile cheese dip was surprisingly delicious on the Food Should Taste Good chocolate chips. It reminded me a little bit of mole. We stuffed ourselves so silly with the "snacks" that I barely had the room or inclination for dessert.



But don't worry, I tried the black sea salt caramel bar anyway. And shockingly, it was only OK. It was filled with a soft, gooey caramel - sort of like an upscale Caramello - which kind of swallowed the sea salt. I'd never have known there was salt in the bar at all if I hadn't read the label.

We ended up putting the fish in the freezer. Oops.

This week's been a whirlwind. Monday night I attempted to run six miles on the treadmill, but it was not meant to be. I made it 3.5 miles altogether before I gave up...and not before I had several incidents involving (1) my digestive system, (2) my clumsy ass hitting the "STOP" button accidentally with my water bottle, and (3) my IT band tightening up. I did some abs and called it a night.

Tuesday I was supposed to have dinner with a client, but it got pushed to Wednesday due to an emergency on my boss's part. When I got home around 6:30, I found my poor husband standing outside on a conference call on his cell phone, holding the dogs' leashes in his hand while they pranced around the grass.

"Don't touch Cosmo. He isn't feeling good." In polite English, "isn't feeling good" means "had explosive diarrhea in his crate and stood/sat around in it for an undetermined period of time this afternoon."

We spent the evening washing the dog (which he hates), washing his collar and bedding (which he also hates - he feels naked without his collar), and wiping up dog-poop-footprints from the hardwood floors (which I kind of hate, but have to admit beats the hell out of cleaning carpets).

Poor buddy's been on a bland rice-and-chicken diet. Instead of treats, he gets spoonfuls of pumpkin hidden inside rolled-up turkey lunch meat. He is not impressed.

Last night I made it to dinner. A couple glasses of wine later, I made it home and barely kept my eyes open for 45 minutes before I had to stumble up to bed.

Today's nuts. Tons of work to get done (apparently, the end-of-quarter rush from last month is turning into an end-of-every-month rush). Lots of training to do with my slave first year associate. And I'm kind of shell shocked for some reason - looking at my to-do list but somehow unable to actually decide what task to do next.

I hope blogging cleared my mind. Maybe I'll go downstairs and get a coffee and then come back and hope that I'm a normal person again.