This weekend, we brought Cosmo home a new bed.
He likes it. A lot.
It's currently sitting on the couch next to me. I'm hoping to slowly "trick" him into sleeping in this bed instead of OUR bed. Don't get me wrong, I like cuddling with my dog...but that M-Fer hogs the bed.
I know, I don't get it either. But believe me - less than 25 pounds is enough to shove me out of the way. And PhillyGuy. Somehow, by the time morning comes around, the two of us end up pushed out to the edge of our respective sides of the bed, and Cosmo is sprawled out in the middle, complete immovable.
Anyway. After the insanity that my job has been lately, I was DYING to run tonight. I crossed my fingers that my knee would behave itself, hopped on the treadmill and set out to run some intervals. I alternated between 6.5, 7.5 and 8.0mph for anywhere between 1 and 5 minutes at a stretch with no real rhyme or reason. I wrapped up three miles in 27:56 and was WIPED. MAN, I hate getting back into shape. It's freakin' rough.
Cosmo chilled on his bed next to me while I finished up some work and ate...you guessed it.
With a big fat pile of sundried tomato hummus and some (super classy) pre-cooked chicken.
While Sophie watched TV.
What can I say? I live a glamorous life.