Whose dog are you?

This morning I ran a razor around my face, threw on a tidy…ish pair of jeans and headed towards the Nearest Depot.

I should have been accompanied by 30% but she had woken to an horrific migraine and preferred to lie in a darkened room only venturing from her bed to vomit.* It was therefore left to me to drop Whiffler off at the Dog Grooming Salon and head in to the Office where I spent a happy few hours chatting to colleagues, filling in an expenses form and grudgingly completing the final field on my on-line appraisal form.

By two o'clock I was done and my colleagues were silently wishing me to go so they could get on with whatever had dragged them from home in to the office on a Friday. Fortune smiled on them when the Salon called to let me know that Whiffler was ready for collection. I headed down the road, wandered in to the Salon and was greeted by this …

I had left them a fluff ball of a puppy. Admittedly he had been a very large fluff ball of a puppy, but I had returned to collect very attractive coiffed young dog. I had forgotten the shock of how different they look after their very first clip. Apparently he had behaved beautifully during his wash and cut and I was threatened with dreadful retributions should I consider taking him for a walk down the muddy lanes for at least a week. I was also asked if I would like to consider buying shares in the Grooming Salon as T&M are booked in for a clip next Wednesday!

I headed home and finished my working day from the study. That really sums up the day. I did need to head over to Worcester and drop off a pair of Peter Gabriel tickets with Jules as 30% was in no fit state to head over to the NEC this evening. I then settled on the sofa for the evening and as the hours ticked by I felt less and less chipper …

… I don't know if it was the bad night's sleep I woke from this morning or if I had a cold coming on. What I do know is that I felt quite yucky and was glad when TP came home and I could lock up and hit the sack.

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* This statement might seem a little "cold" but after more than a dozen years together I am well versed in the lore of the migraine. There is nothing I can do but just leave her be and let it dissipate over the course of the day. Questions like "How are you" or "Do you need anything" are pointless and simply an unwelcome intrusion in to a world of pain and nausea.