I've been floating along a bit. I've actually been so content lately that I decided to suspend therapy. Actually, I decided, but was so worried about hurting my therapist's feelings (because, you know, we've been through so much together) that I didn't even bring it up. She actually brought it up. And we decided it was fine.

Not sure if it's the post-marriage fog, or if I'm still just feeling really healthy after my lovely week-long Maui vacation, but I've developed this positive attitude toward things that I'm not quite sure what to do with. Work feels good now. Home feels good. I'm not overeating, I'm not self-criticizing, I'm actually being social and enjoying my friends and family for a change.

So what do a couple of people who suddenly find themselves with unprecendented amounts of free time on their hands decide to do? Relax and make the most of it? Leisurely long evenings reading and cooking elaborate meals and taking long walks and making out on the sofa?

Wrong.

We decide we need a dog.

Introducing: the Pup:

We love him, he's a beautifully tempered, sweet, smart pup. Seven months old. Tons of energy, but also good with people and other dogs (calm and curious). However, A. has to work at home during the day and take care of the dog at the same time, so there have been a bunch of huge bumps the past week. A.'s propensity toward irrational rage has been showing itself. I (supposedly) take it all too seriously and personally. We've been fighting a little bit too much for newlyweds, I guess is what I'm trying to say.

But then again, when the dog is being good, it feels great to have him. To have saved him and to be helping him learn the trick to becoming a great dog in a society that values calm, well-mannered dogs.

Sometimes I have these moments of selfishness, though: Maybe I just want my husband to myself for a little while again. There's nothing wrong with that, right?

Plus, it would be really nice to get more than 4 hours of sleep a night. Truly.