know thyself. every month.

I shouldn't be surprised each month around this time when my patience is thinner than usual (and "usual" ain't so great to begin with) and I get frustrated about the smallest things. Even the excitement of a new relationship can't stop the damn hormones from raging when I'm reading a text that really does seem to be saying the same thing over and over and over in paragraph after paragraph with no acknowledgement that we've already been through this. Yesterday's reading reminded me of some of the frustration I felt as a grad student reading stuff I hated. But always the dutiful, obedient student, I worked my way through it and then went for a long walk. Yesterday Belly benefited from this frustration.

In other news, the dog swim was a lot of fun for everyone except Annabelle, I think. I've said this before, but this year it was really crystal clear that she doesn't do well in that kind of chaos. She just looked stressed out the entire time. My poor baby girl. And the Lexington fair didn't have any fried dough. What on earth is a fair without fried dough? I'm three pounds lighter for it, but still.

Moan and groan. It's that kind of post. It's that kind of rainy, thunderstormy day. And I haven't turned on the television because I'm not sure how much of the coverage of today I really want to know about. I just can't bear to see W playing compassion and sincerity or his nostalgia for a national unity that just wasn't. See, it's that patience problem. I have none of it today for him.