Going for the hat trick

Sometimes I really can be an overachiever even though I tell every person I meet that my life long dream is to be a kept man.  The idea of running a foundation for some obscure cause, picking up my children from soccer practice, and maintaining a fab home just sounds so delightful.  So naturally on a weekend where I have a friend from college visiting and having to dog sit for my #bff, I would end up trying to tackle three goals. 

Just a nice lazy Sunday watching a lot of Walking Dead

 First off was this whole "Walking Dead" business (Goal #10).  I decided to see what all the rave was about last week, so I watched season 1 on Netflix in two nights.  So on Saturday night while I was dog-sitting and had my friend Joel over for wine night, I started watching season 2.  I was already like 2.5 episodes in though, so I actually didn't really start on Saturday night.  After many tall "Cougar Town" like glasses of wine and some diet calimocho, I feel asleep.  The dogs survived.  I woke up the next morning and proceeded to just turn on the Netflix and with the exception of the one hour that I went to yoga (I know, yoga on a Sunday afternoon is kind of a housewife luxury), I watched all of season two and was three episodes into season three when the parents got back around 10:30pm.  I was addicted.  I was probably also very zombie like just laying on the couch staring at a television all day.  Season three was not on Netflix.  Stephen buys them on Amazon, so I had to just watch it from there.  When he got home, I made sure to ask for his username and password.  He didn't remember it, I wanted to cry.  I was like a junkie wondering when he would get his next hit.  I got home that night and went to bed never really feeling the same.  I would have done anything to continue watching season three even if it meant taking a mental health day.

Drunk dog-sitting.  How else do people do it?

 So when Stephen asked me to dog-sit this weekend, I naturally said "yes" (Goal #3).  Such a great way to meet new people.  I didn't take into account how hard it would be to walk two dogs of different breeds while trying to strike up a conversation.  I wonder how funny I looked walking a pitbull and the Taco Bell dog.  I would have Zoey (the pit) pulling me forward while Zero was just wanting to take his sweet ass time pissing on anything and everything.  There's also nothing attractive about picking up dog poop with doggie bags and then having to carry it around until I can find the closest garbage can to dispose of it.  However, I did get two opportunities to strike up some dog-friendly conversation.  The first was a guy who was walking his German Shepard.  Zoey was all about being playful and I really was not in the mood for the German thing to attack Zoey and have me trying to break up a dog fight.  So I'm just gripping the lease with all my strength.  The guy asked if she was a puppy, which I answered "yes."  Everything else seemed to have faltered with questions beyond that.  I had to eventually say "I don't know, these are not my dogs."  I need to get my act together, the whole point of dog sitting is so I can pretend like they are mine and scam on hotties.  The second conversation was lackluster as well.  I'm like a very awful version of "Barney's Playbook." 

Nala's Friday night attack.

 On Friday night while I was minding my own business just drinking with a college friend from out of town, Nala attacked me.  This time, it was more harsh than usual.  Needless to say, I had to follow though (Goal #9) and I un-leased holy hell on her in the form of a spray bottle.  Now whenever she attacks me, I'm just going to chase her around the apartment squirting her.  I know, it seems ridic that a 30 year on adult would have to chase his psycho cat around to train her on how to not abuse me.  I thought things were good until I returned home last night.  I guess in her defense, I did leave her for 24 hours (I'm such a battered woman that I'm making excuses for her physical abuse on me).  Out of nowhere, she crept up upon me and made my leg her dinner for the night.  A spray bottle war ensued.  I think I'm getting through to her though.  Up next if the spray bottle doesn't work is going to be me dumping her ass in the shower.  That'll teach her!