It's many years later and we're introduced to Vincent and Eleanor, who meet in a goth club. I want their dialogue to be brilliant and have just the right edge to it. I've been in a goth club once in my life, and that was for a women's leather contest, so it wasn't full of its usual denizens. So I'm going to have to make that shit up. I've been avoiding writing the next scene because it's not as well-planned in my head as the first one was.

Yesterday I felt the energy drain out of me after lunch (maybe it was the fries�I don't eat those much anymore) and left work an hour and a half early. After I'd cleaned up the dog piss, fed the cats, taken Angel outside for some more bodily functions, it was 5 p.m. I settled into the couch, thinking I had at least another hour and a half to ruminate and relax before anyone got home. Deb got home about 10 minutes later. Then Jake got home. There were phone calls. Dinner plans. A dog who needed her long walk. Crap.

I developed a foul mood in a hurry. Angel and I butted heads to the point that Deb took away the reins (or leash, if you will). We discussed our Badsnake Stress observations on the walk. Work doesn't get to me. Relationship difficulties don't get to me. But pet conflicts really get to me. I lose my temper with pets when I don't have a temper in any other arena of my life.

Transference much?

I figure that the other stresses don't come out at the job or with the relationship because I don't have much control over those things. But pets are my responsibility, and when they're not responding to my commands or whatever, and I'm stressed about something else, I get pissed and feel like a failure because I can't even get my damn dog to stop peeing in the house. Then Deb gets stressed. The dog doesn't know what the hell is wrong with me all of a sudden. Craziness begets craziness.

Luckily, Deb is a pretty good mediator when I get frustrated with the pets. She takes over the dog duties for a while; I calm down. We're a good team.

Thank god I've got a massage scheduled for in the morning. On the bad side of being able to enjoy the massage, I've got to deal with "return of the plumber" in the afternoon. This is the one who didn't install the escutcheons, which he said weren't in the box. Jake's plumbing teacher advised us to have him come back and make it right, because Jake couldn't figure out how to fix the mess he left it in.

I hate ... hate, hate, hate ... having to confront poor service. My preferred way of dealing with that is to walk and never go back. I had to have Deb call him and tell him he had to come back and do the job right. I couldn't even do that. Now he says he found our escutcheons but didn't have our number to call us back. Uh-huh.

Jake says he's carrying my balls around in his toolbox. Just cross your fingers for me in hopes that he'll do the job right on Saturday afternoon and I won't have to look at some shoddy work and say, "No. Do it again." 'Cause then my head would explode and the world would come to an end.

Good news: I finally found a human on the phone who would take my application for a home equity line of credit so we can get the utility room fixed. Yay.

Sorry for the boring homeowner issues entry. I'm not saying anything specific, but I may have better subject matter to discuss tomorrow.

Moving on - 12:11 p.m. , 2007-08-14

Where the hell have I been? - 12:10 p.m. , 2007-02-19

Holy shit! - 2:24 p.m. , 2006-01-11

Stuffing recipe - 6:17 p.m. , 2005-12-13

Good Life Update - 10:22 a.m. , 2005-11-11