It's you... Not Me

Finally, after two weeks of enduring Piri's impact on our sleep patterns, I crashed yesterday - twice. (I know, I haven't written yet about Piri, the new addition to the S & S Fettig family. It's coming.) I got up around 4:30 am (again) to let her out. She starts whining when she needs to go outside, which is a good thing. At least she has decided that it's not worth peeing (& tc.) in the cage - that would be a mess - so, we do our best to make sure we get up in a relatively short amount of time after she starts whining.
I went through the routine:
...open the cage, pick her up...
...trip over the stool used for Pete to get in bed...
...almost lose grip of Piri...
...move towards the bedroom foyer door...
...shuffle downstairs wondering whether I should feed her to the Coyotes...
...she licks my face and whimpers a few times...
...I remember why the Coyotes haven't gotten Rottie pup...
...turn on the outside lights, hope it isn't too cold (still in shorts and a t-shirt) and go outside...
...let her do her thing...
...(remember to) praise her...
...bring her in and fumble my way back upstairs to the kitchen...
...feed her...
...(remember to) praise her again...
...eat myself...
...put her back in the cage...
...get ready for work...
Except this time, I finished in the bathroom and decided to lay back in bed for a few minutes. Nothingness... I wake up suddenly, Steph's not there, the dogs aren't there and it is very light out. What the hell happened???
I look over to the clock. 8:15
Nice... You just slept from 5:45 until 8:15. That's almost three hours more than you've gotten on any day in two weeks. Nice...
Work ended up being a slow day. I had a lot of running around to do and because I didn't load up on my normal coffee concoctions, I was a bit slow. I had enough and was able to scoot out of the office at 4 pm and head home. I figured, great... it's warm out, I'll sit outside with Steph and her mom and can enjoy the rest of the evening.
I got home and felt the call of sleep all of a sudden. Even after having a huge bottle of Coke, I couldn't keep anything straight while I worked on my laptop. So, I decided to lay down. Nothingness...
Anyway, you get the idea. In a matter of one day, I was almost able to play catch-up on the sleep I've lost due to Piri in the past two weeks (I know, catching up on sleep doesn't work, but trust me, sleeping more than normal on any given day helps).
She's turning out to be an amazing pup (very intelligent, very quick to learn, but very dominant - she'll definitely be a handful), but she has gotten the better of me and my much needed sleep. It's been two weeks since I was able to concentrate on Aristotle and I think with yesterday's game of checking my eyelids for leaks, I'm ready to read and write again.

Technorati Tags: puppy, rottie, sleep

Being a bachelor for these few days/half month has been a learning experience. In all honesty, I was looking forward to it, not because Steph gets on my nerves (noooo.... that would neeever happen), but because I knew that I had a lot of work to crunch through this month and it would be better that she had some friends to spend time with than see me leave early and come home late day after day. I think for me, the hardest part about being married is the time commitment. I inherited the 'work compulsively until you fall apart' gene from my father. (Mom, I'm not saying you had nothing to do with this, but we all know that dad is the work'a'holic and you always did what you could to soften the effects of that. Oh... by the way. You did a great job!) So, Steph going home for a couple weeks was going to be an adventure. Little did I know what kind of adventure.
The first thing that happens when you become a bachelor and have been used to the sweet care that only your best friend and wife could provide you with is suddenly gone, is if you get sick, you won't get over it in near record time you normally would. After my little sister's wedding on the 11th, I've been dead sick. The first days were my own doing. Since then, however, it... well, dammit. It is still my own doing. Without Steph nagging me to take care of myself, let alone eat properly, I'm going to bed late, not sleeping when I do, getting up early and generally eating nothing but canned food. So much for my culinary skillz I claim to have. I sit here, in the 8th day of being sick and wonder if my cough is ever going to go away.
The second thing that happens is that you suddenly realize how much work three dogs are to maintain and keep happy. (I'm at a loss as to how to possibly keep Pete from being happy without his bunkmate. He still looks at me with depressing eyes when I get out of Steph's car and she doesn't.) Kyra is a HAPPY dog. I really mean that. She is HAPPY all the time. So HAPPY that she can't sit still, can't stop wagging her tail, can't believe all the people around (landscaping around the house is being worked upon), can't believe she is about to eat, can't believe Piri has her bone, can't believe Pete can sit up on the chair with me. And the list goes on. Piri is so laid back that, well, frankly, she reminds me of a friend I had in grade and high school who turned to pot in college to heighten his senses and relax (I don't know if it did either, but it was funny to see him after a night of getting high). He was a twittery, nervous type fellow who enjoyed picking his nose and chewing on his nails. He was like a brother and we simply lost contact after college as both our lives diverged in different directions. Well, Piri is laid back, but very nervous at the same time. She's currently scared to death of boxes. The amusement brings tears to my eyes when I think of it. A rottweiler. Scared of boxes. Köstlich. If she were partially human, she'd pick her nose and chew on her nails; I'm sure of it. So, we have depressed Pete, HAPPY Kyra and ganja Piri.
For Kyra, the day starts at 4:30 am. I have no idea why and when this started, but something always gets her out of bed and makes her happy to be alive. At 4:30 am. Tail thumping and wagging around. At 4:30 am. If I weren't such a cranky bastard at 4:30 in the morning, I'd love her all the more for it. But, being a cranky bastard and bachelor has made mornings somewhat of a difficulty, especially when I couldn't sleep the evening before because I was still sick. And now I'm up. At 4:30 am.
Besides me being completely unable to care for myself alone, this is the type of stuff that Steph always deals with. Although mornings for her are no more happy than mine are, she takes pride in our dogs and doesn't necessarily mind Kyra waking up and dancing around our room. She has a way with the three and is somehow able to keep HAPPY Kyra from running over depressed Pete and make sure ganja Piri gets a few moments of praise on her own.
At this point in time, being a bachelor has not turned out to what it was supposed to be. I knew I'd miss Steph, but I didn't think of the multitude of reasons as to why. It seems that, as with most good things, you never realize how good they really are until you no longer have them. Besides my best friend simply not being there, it is ridiculously difficult to handle the things I don't think twice about when she is around. Bachelorhood is for the birds and I can't wait to have her back.

Technorati Tags: french+bulldog, mornings, bachelor, puppy, rottie