Dog blogging, coffee addiction
I hate our dogs. They're like giant wildebeests on crack. Every morning, one of us has to let them out of the crate in the laundry room to take them out to their boundary inside the electric fence. I've been on dog duty this weekend because I'm off work and Tim's not.
The first step is to open the back door and then, from a safe place, open the door of the crates. Once they're out the back door, it's safe to come down from the top of the washing machine or let go of the ceiling fan. While they're busy emptying their bladders, I rush inside the shop to get some food for them. Hopefully I can empty it into their giant metal bowl while at least one of them is still busy. Ideally, I can get the electric collar onto one before the other arrives. When they're both on you, it's impossible. You're trying to snap the collar on and the one is wriggling and writhing and jumping and about to come unglued. Meanwhile, the other is jumping up on you and barking and scratching. And they're super big and tough and stupid, so this process puts you at risk of receiving a black eye or a broken nose.
(Did I mention that it snowed here Saturday? First time in years. It awakened the dogs' Malamute side.)
Getting them to come in at night isn't much easier. At first, they're afraid to cross the boundary because they think they'll get shocked. Bear has figured out that once the collar comes off, it's safe. Daisy requires more coaxing. Last night I unleashed Bear first, and he hauled ass inside through the back door, which I had left open. I was bent over trying to free Daisy when he came bounding out of nowhere and knocked me to the ground and tried to murder me with love. I really thought he had blacked my left eye. I did not feel loved. I felt violated. And wet and cold and pissed off. I started cussing and punched him to get him off me. He ran inside. Call the ASPCA if you want, but I kicked his ass. Self defense!
Daisy was still reluctant to cross the boundary, so I got a bowl of cat food that I had poured some hamburger grease into. I was going to use it to lure her over the boundary. Bear got a whiff of it and followed me. I used the food to lure Daisy over the wire, but Bear jumped up and knocked the food bowl out of my hand. I followed Daisy in through the door and put her in the crate. Now Bear was on the other side of the wire, licking the bowl. As soon as I called him, he picked up the entire bowl in his mouth and ran for the edge of the yard. If it hadn't been hilarious, I might've killed him, but the sight of him hauling ass with that bowl in his mouth cracked me up.
I still hate him though.
Insert transitional sentence here.
This morning I read that drinking 2 or more cups of coffee a day doubles a woman's chance of having a miscarriage, and that if you're trying to get pregnant you should stop drinking coffee. I'm not sure I can do that. I used to drink coffee only on cold mornings, but I could take it or leave it. Now, as with any addiction, it has become an absolutely necessary part of my routine. I require two cups before I'm awake enough to get into the shower without forgetting to get undressed first. If I happen to sleep late and, God forbid, I don't get any coffee, my morning is shot. I will still be dragging my ass at the end of second period. This happened to me about two weeks ago, and I literally walked up and down the hallways searching for a coffee pot. I thought surely someone had one in their room. Someone finally told me the social worker had one, but she wasn't there before 1st period started, so I didn't get to hit her up for a cup. It was traumatic. As not open as my eyes were that morning, it did open my eyes to the fact that I am literally addicted to my morning coffee. I'm afraid this could be a serious obstacle between me and my dreams of motherhood. If you've overcome a coffee addiction, I'd love to hear how you did it. I don't think I can do it while it's still cold. When it warms up, I might have a better chance.
The first step is to open the back door and then, from a safe place, open the door of the crates. Once they're out the back door, it's safe to come down from the top of the washing machine or let go of the ceiling fan. While they're busy emptying their bladders, I rush inside the shop to get some food for them. Hopefully I can empty it into their giant metal bowl while at least one of them is still busy. Ideally, I can get the electric collar onto one before the other arrives. When they're both on you, it's impossible. You're trying to snap the collar on and the one is wriggling and writhing and jumping and about to come unglued. Meanwhile, the other is jumping up on you and barking and scratching. And they're super big and tough and stupid, so this process puts you at risk of receiving a black eye or a broken nose.
(Did I mention that it snowed here Saturday? First time in years. It awakened the dogs' Malamute side.)
Getting them to come in at night isn't much easier. At first, they're afraid to cross the boundary because they think they'll get shocked. Bear has figured out that once the collar comes off, it's safe. Daisy requires more coaxing. Last night I unleashed Bear first, and he hauled ass inside through the back door, which I had left open. I was bent over trying to free Daisy when he came bounding out of nowhere and knocked me to the ground and tried to murder me with love. I really thought he had blacked my left eye. I did not feel loved. I felt violated. And wet and cold and pissed off. I started cussing and punched him to get him off me. He ran inside. Call the ASPCA if you want, but I kicked his ass. Self defense!
Daisy was still reluctant to cross the boundary, so I got a bowl of cat food that I had poured some hamburger grease into. I was going to use it to lure her over the boundary. Bear got a whiff of it and followed me. I used the food to lure Daisy over the wire, but Bear jumped up and knocked the food bowl out of my hand. I followed Daisy in through the door and put her in the crate. Now Bear was on the other side of the wire, licking the bowl. As soon as I called him, he picked up the entire bowl in his mouth and ran for the edge of the yard. If it hadn't been hilarious, I might've killed him, but the sight of him hauling ass with that bowl in his mouth cracked me up.
I still hate him though.
Insert transitional sentence here.
This morning I read that drinking 2 or more cups of coffee a day doubles a woman's chance of having a miscarriage, and that if you're trying to get pregnant you should stop drinking coffee. I'm not sure I can do that. I used to drink coffee only on cold mornings, but I could take it or leave it. Now, as with any addiction, it has become an absolutely necessary part of my routine. I require two cups before I'm awake enough to get into the shower without forgetting to get undressed first. If I happen to sleep late and, God forbid, I don't get any coffee, my morning is shot. I will still be dragging my ass at the end of second period. This happened to me about two weeks ago, and I literally walked up and down the hallways searching for a coffee pot. I thought surely someone had one in their room. Someone finally told me the social worker had one, but she wasn't there before 1st period started, so I didn't get to hit her up for a cup. It was traumatic. As not open as my eyes were that morning, it did open my eyes to the fact that I am literally addicted to my morning coffee. I'm afraid this could be a serious obstacle between me and my dreams of motherhood. If you've overcome a coffee addiction, I'd love to hear how you did it. I don't think I can do it while it's still cold. When it warms up, I might have a better chance.
Usually lurk but I had to reassure you that it CAN be done. I also teach (school starts at a deadly 7:45) and coffee used to be the only thing that got me up and out the door. When we were ttc our second child, I knew I needed to cut out the coffee. First I cut it down to half-caf by buying a bag of regular and a bag of decaf and mixing them. After a month or so, I cut it to 1/4 caf (had the coffee shop mix it up and grind it for me). All in all it took me about 4 months to wean my way off, but I've never gone back. I've been off the hard stuff for about 5 years now, and somehow manage NOT to growl at small children without cause. :p
Ellen
Posted by
Anonymous |
1:07 PM
Well, I've never been a coffee drinker, but I DID have to wean myself off of Mountain Dew, which is just as bad. The key is to do it SLOWLY. Gradually cut back each day until you're caffeine-free. If you don't do it slowly, the headaches will kill you - or make you want to kill someone else, which, in your profession, is seriously frowned upon.
Posted by
Anonymous |
6:09 PM