Susan enjoyed writing a post a day for a month, she totally didn't think she had it in her and suprised herself with the results. Unfortunately, the time it took to write them each day came directly from her personal marital budget, a point made once or twice by the husband. She appreciates his support and will make it up to him in December. Goodbye, NaBloPoMo.


On day twenty nine Susan hosted a family party while in a bad mood.
Last month Susan's aunt Eileen mentioned that she hadn't seen her brother, Susan's father, in a long time. Susan knows that once her folks make it to her basement they don't like to go anywhere so Susan invited her aunt to come out for a visit. Susan's aunt was happy and so was Susan because she likes having company.

Little by little the guest list grew until Susan started to feel a little panicky. But, Susan loves her aunt & uncle and all her cousins so she set her panic aside and cleaned the house. Susan's regular TWISTED mood has really been messed up recently by her job at Acme Sweatshop and by her dead dog, but she pours a glass of wine and does the best she can.

Susan looked forward to the party and everything was great until she heard her guests laughing and enjoying themselves, then she nose-dived. It was ridiculous that the sound of happiness bugged her so much, but it did. She had to remove herself a few times; walking outside with a cigar to talk to her neighbor as he hung Xmas lights, retreating to her room to read an old New Yorker or just taking a bunch of potty breaks.

Susan couldn't wait for her guests to leave and little by little they did until only her little sister's family and cousin Lisa remained. Then Susan relaxed.


Susan's family went to the town animal shelter today. They set up rules to help establish the type of dog they wanted and the type they didn't, then they all had to agree in order to bring anything home.

Susan completed a form, submitted her ID then they all waited to be escorted through the kennels. Susan recognized one of the Animal Safety officers from two summers ago when she was unsuccessful in finding the owner of an old dog wandering her neighborhood.
Back then Susan chatted up the Animal Safety officer about her job, today she just smiled at her.

Susan loved looking at all the dogs jumping and barking and wagging their tails, oy, they were loud. She wanted to hug and kiss every one of them, except for the ones that scared her. Most were pit bull mixes, the breed that Susan's family was not interested in. However, they asked to see a new mom who was picked up as a pregnant stray during the summer. The staff member had a hard time hanging on to the leash as mom went around the room smelling everything in sight. They left emptyhanded,
as Susan expected.

The family ran a few errands on the way to the next shelter including returning the son's winter jacket purchased by the husband a day earlier. Susan mentions this only as a way to tell everyone how ridiculous it was for the husband to authorize the jacket in the first place because it was a glorified sweatshirt and would never keep the kid warm in anything colder than a sunny autumn day. Thanks to Susan's intervention he now has a jacket that will keep out the rain, snow and wind chill.

The next animal shelter was much smaller and looser than the first, Susan's family walked unescorted anywhere they wanted. There were approximately 20 dogs, some cats, peacocks, chickens and a rooster to choose from.
The chickens were able to fly over a 5 foot fence and jump up into the trees. So, while chickens were sitting in trees, peacocks were strutting the parking lot and a rooster was crowing Susan's family found a dog.
She'll be ready next Saturday.


Susan started NaBloPoMo by working out her posts a day ahead of schedule so that she posted at midnight for the next day. Now, she's left herself less than an hour for the current day, plus she's tired, plus she's got no good ideas and she wishes she had something on which she could rest her feet.

Susan's family is going out this weekend to look for a dog, her rotten kids don't want another boxer so Susan will let them pick out what they want as long as it fits within her criteria; medium to large, short hair, calm disposition and female. Her old dog. Susan can't imagine another dog in her house, she'll be interested to see what they end up with.

Oh, Dr. Bob sent the family a sympathy card.

Here's a joke courtesy of her old man:
A ham sandwich walks into a bar and the bartender sez
I'm sorry, we don't serve food here.


Oy, Susan's stomach hurts.
She stayed away from anything requiring a stick of butter like stuffing and smashed potatoes, and the shrimp mousse was just a smudge on the platter by the time she found it. Susan observed a two drink maximum and only had one slice of pumpkin cheesecake although she may have eaten the remnants off of two or three other plates.
Susan believes that her friends the vegetables did her in. She's really not too familiar with the brussel sprouts, it's only the second time they've been invited to the house and she's considering them with great suspicion.
Susan was wondering how much trouble it would be to install a vomitorium.


Right now Susan is thankful for;
food made with sugar
modern plumbing
The Onion
Euphoria by Calvin Klein
that Pearl Jam song
McSorley's Irish Black Lager
her fireplace
supermarkets that stay open late
Dr. Bob
and all her bloggy pals who gave Susan hugs & kisses
Happy Thanksgiving, guys.


Susan's dog went to Heaven on day twenty four.

The regular veterinarian, who Susan allowed to inspect the dog only when absolutely necessary, wanted an outrageous sum to put her down. The last time Susan's dog required this vet's services it cost Susan over eight hundred dollars, half when Susan left the dog, the other half when she picked her up. They sucked the money from Susan's check in less time than it took her to write it out, then they handed it back to her.
Here, take it with you and go.
Anyway, they weren't getting her dog now.

Susan's dog went to nice Dr. Bob who took his time and helped deliver her to the afterlife gently, without pickpocketing her owners. Susan's daughter was very sad and sniffly so Susan cheered her up by saying 'pull my finger' then took her into the kitchen to bake some anisette toast.


Day twenty three and Susan is shot;
she's tired, short on time, unhappy at work and her dog has stopped all meaningful interaction.

Susan's parents arrived late in the evening to begin a week of sleeping in her basement, she tried to recruit them into taking the dog to the killers, but they were having none of it.

Susan anticipates she'll be doing alot of anxiety related baking and she started with cranberry orange bread.


Susan and her daughter shared a bar of dark chocolate laced with chili and now that's all that either of them can think about. The chili provided no flavor, only a wonderful sensation of heat in the back of the throat which crept slowly across the tongue until the entire mouth was jumping up and down.
Susan wasted no time in recreating this treat at home in the form of a brownie. Brownies are Susan's go-to dessert, she buys ten boxes of mix at a time whenever they're on sale. She's eaten brownies made from scratch but she doesn't like the texture and they give her indigestion. She's always looking to substitute a portion of the oil with a healthier lubricant like applesauce or black beans, she's not always successful. Today she added 1.25 teaspoons of cayenne pepper into the mix and reduced the oil in half by substituting a 1/4 cup of pumpkin.
The pumpkin cayenne brownies were perfection.
Just enough heat and the pumpkin made them more cake-like than dense.
They're on the Thanksgiving menu.


Except for her little sister, Cousin Lisa and sometimes her mother Susan doesn't like to talk on the telephone.
She never sez Call me! because she doesn't want you to.

She hates it when the phone rings in her house & hates it even more when it's for her. And the cell phone? What a pain it is to hold that thing up to her ear for anything longer than Hello. Pick up milk? OK. Goodbye.

In her absence the husband has been instructed to inform her callers only that she'll be told they called, nothing else. Similarly, family or friends who encounter anyone inquiring after Susan's phone number are not permitted to provide it.

Susan likes her communications to be conducted in person and when that's not possible she doesn't mind writing them down. E-mail and Susan go perfectly together, she writes when she has time and everyone answers when they have time. She finds texting very effective for keeping in touch with Wild Bill and she likes to write letters, although she doesn't hand write them anymore. She will hand write short notes and sometimes draws a little picture of her face complete with red hair if she's got a red pen. Forget about cards, they're not even on her radar, the only ones she sends are to the husband's old aunties for Xmas. She doesn't twitter because who cares and she doesn't IM because typing out her conversations in real time is insane.

Lastly, Even though she's got a Facebook page it drives her nuts with all the misspellings, LOLs and exclamation points!!!! OMG!!!!! She's got it set so that nobody can find her.


This post is a total cop out because Susan was left unprepared for day twenty.
Susan had another in a series of brutal f*cking days at Acme Sweatshop which has left her wondering if she'll be a sweatshop seamstress for much longer.
After work she went out by herself to the mall where she was stunned to find that some of her favorite stores are now selling absolute crap.
Ann Taylor LOFT she's talking about you.
When the mall kicked Susan out & turned off their lights she popped into the Big Chain Book Store to buy her favorite expensive decorating magazine then headed for home. On the way Susan returned her pal Cyndi's phone call (yes, she really spells it that way). Susan enjoyed the private time with her friend so much she continued the conversation while sitting in her driveway even though the family kept coming outside to interrupt. She ate a bowl of cereal at 11pm for dinner and crawled into bed with the laptop where she started working on day twenty but she realized that she'd never finish it on time so she's substituting this one.


The last two mornings Susan had a little meltdown as she left the house for work. Neither was created in a vacuum, the husband's mouth was present.
Yesterday's explosion was immediate, and it only took a little nudge. Today's was just as quick and ended with Susan throwing a banana.
In each case the cause of the argument wasn't really significant except for the one where the husband started a conversation then lost interest when it was Susan's turn to talk.
Banana incoming!


Susan forgot to tell her everyone about something that made her LOL back on day twelve;
an Xmas tree already lit up in someone's livingroom window.
She hopes you don't feel cheated but this is Susan's offering for day eighteen.
She'll see you tomorrow.


Day 17 finds Susan making Deb's spaghetti squash.
She hasn't tasted it yet because the squash is still resting but the husband has already declared that it 'smells good'. That's because butter, garlic, cumin, coriander, cayenne and seasoned salt smell good.
Susan's low on enthusiasm and ideas tonight. She's been having a devil of a time at her job as a sweatshop seamstress and still feels as though she might have a f*cking heart attack at any moment if she doesn't have a f*cking stroke first.
Susan also wants to climb into her big soft bed and stare into space as soon as she can.
Susan can't think of anything funny to type.

(Courage was kind of funny)
What's the frequency, Kenneth?


Susan would love to read a book again.
She used to read them. In fact she read so many books during her four hours on the train each day that she carried a back up book just in case. By the time she stopped commuting she was a little burnt out and took a vacation from reading. She still had the newspaper and magazines but they were different, so she started reading in the car while waiting for her son outside Tae Kwon Do
or during her daughter's guitar lessons
or while both kids were on the soccer field.
She read on the potty, while her family picked out their Xmas tree and while people had conversations with her. Obviously, if they were going to talk to her while she was reading they didn't care if she paid attention, so she kept reading. When she fell down the rat hole of unemployment she turned on the computer and read everything she had ever bookmarked which led her in all sorts of other directions including into the blogosphere.
Then she got a job and hasn't had time for anything with a binding and a title in months.
She knows she's pretty maxed out with obligations during the week, but maybe she can begin by squeezing an hour each Saturday & Sunday for a book.
She's going to think about what she's in the mood for.


When Susan was in her twenties the normal frustrations of life would inspire some pretty immature behavior; she might throw her keys from one side of a restaurant dining room to the other, flip her chair over at work, engage in shoving matches with her sister or chase after cars that cut her off. The last one resulted in a few hairy confrontations including having a man come after her with a two by four and another threaten to take her middle finger from one place and put it in another. Susan has grown into a mature wife and mother who can hardly believe she used to act that way, but she knows that she did because she was there.

She figures that you're all thinking, but didn't she just stick her middle finger up at a guy yesterday? And you're correct, but that's not her normal behavior or wouldn't you have read about it by now?

Susan still loves to yell, scream and throw things but not at strangers, she saves that behavior for her family because she's just civilized that way. She combats the frustrating minutiae of her life by banging furiously at a keyboard cranking out TWISTED Susan posts day after day after day. Her modest fan base is right there with her letting her know she's not alone.

Day fifteen for anyone who's counting.
Susan is.


Susan took her daughter out early on Saturday morning to run errands. They started at We Do It All Dental Care where Susan saw the b*tchy office c*nt again, and ended in the food store. Susan prefers one food store while the husband likes another, Susan was closer to the husband's so that's where she went. His food store was good for some things but not for others. For example, Susan stocked up on vegetables, canned tomatoes and spices but couldn't find acceptable toilet paper or laundry detergent.

Susan's daughter likes to push the shopping cart, which is fine by Susan because she prefers to be up on point scouting the aisle. The aisles are smaller than Susan's regular store and the patrons think nothing of cutting each other off without so much as a neighborly smile or a nod. Not the worst thing in the world, but Susan thought it rude. Susan and her daughter were navigating a turn into the soda aisle to pick up Susan's seltzer but were blocked by a store employee stocking shelves. He had a movable hand cart, sort of like the thing they transported Hannibal Lecter around on, filled with boxes. Susan said 'Excuse me' then waited for him to respond. Which he didn't. She knew that he heard her because she was standing immediately behind him and spoke clearly and in his native language.
Susan moved the cart herself as the store employee turned and gave her a look. 'This is what I meant by excuse me' she said, educating him to how he failed the small task she gave him. She turned her back and continued toward the seltzer, then spun around to give him the finger. She was happy when he caught her.


Susan rubbed elbows with a room full of emerging artists last night. Elbows and feet and rear ends, it was very crowded. The eldest of Susan's three nieces is in sleep away art school and was one of a group chosen to have their work exhibited in a gallery. Susan and her little sister's family went to the reception and had a lot of fun trying to maneuver from one side of the room to the other in order to see everything.

Susan's favorite was a pyramid shaped mixed media piece illuminated from within, sort of like an extroverted diorama. It was a collection of everything from horseshoe crabs to dolls heads, framed photographs, painted beer bottles & little boxes filled with Susan couldn't even see what. Susan also liked a very detailed collage, acrylic and painted panel on canvas which she got ample opportunity to admire while waiting her turn for the toilet. Of course she liked her niece's contribution, two panels screwed directly into the gallery wall that made Susan think of a colorful Guernica. Susan will admit to not liking everything her niece does, but what she likes she usually really likes.

In densely packed crowds Susan prefers never to mingle without alcohol but this evening she resisted the wine and was all over the thick chunks of dark chocolate served alongside cheese, fruit and pink frosted donuts.

One memorable moment came when Susan's niece introduced her to a tall blonde who extended her hand and informed Susan of her name while turning completely away to begin a conversation with the person next to her.
So rude to meet ya.

Anyway, it was a fun evening and now day thirteen is done.


A few years back Susan used to take the train to work. She liked walking the few blocks from her house to the station and if she had time she would stop at the newspaper stand and get a cup of coffee because the guy at the newspaper stand made good coffee. He spoke English as his second language and sometimes people would be short tempered with him so Susan always made sure that she said thank you extra sweet.

Every once in a while a politician would be waiting to ambush the commuters in front of the train platform. Oy, how Susan hated to waste any of the precious moments of her life ducking politicians. One morning when Susan didn't have any available time to spare she spied an old timer in khakis approaching commuters, accepting donations and handing out poppies. Drats! The old timer was right in her path, there was nowhere to go. Susan prepared herself for the encounter by reaching into her bag to grab a dollar but came up with a twenty. Fear stabbed her in the heart when she realized that's all she had.

Susan walked up to the veteran, conversated briefly and slipped him the twenty. He smiled a big smile, took a step back and saluted her.


Susan gave permission for her daughter to stay overnight in the home of complete strangers.
Later, she went over there with the husband and some brownies to see if she could get rid of a queasy feeling that she had.

Susan liked the strangers and it wasn't just because she was handed a plate of warm apple fritters topped with icecream faster than she was able to calculate how much fat & sugar they might have.

There was much lively conversation and the strangers had a ballsy romantic backstory that Susan found appealing.
It was a good first date and Susan would like to see them again.


Black Bean Chili

Day ten is brought to you courtesy of Susan's pal Dawn (hi, doll) who was intrigued by Susan's addition of pumpkin to her black bean chili. Throwing pumpkin into chili doesn't mess with the flavor, unless you want it to, then just add a little cinnamon.

1 large ONION, chopped
2 GARLIC cloves, minced (add more if you want more)
2 teaspoons ground CUMIN
2 tablespoons CHILI POWDER
4 cups canned black BEANS (make any bean substitution you like)
1 cup water
1/4 cup bottled chipotle sauce (Susan substitutes Goya CHIPOTLE PEPPERS in Adobo sauce)
1 tablespoon SUGAR
1 28 ounce can DICED TOMATOES
1/2 to 1 cup of PUMPKIN
*a few strips of turkey BACON, diced

Heat 1 tablespoon oil in pan, add turkey bacon & saute for five minutes then add onion and garlic, saute for another five until everything begins to brown.
Add the spices, cook 1 minute stirring constantly
Add beans and the remaining ingredients, stir to combine.
Bring to a boil, reduce heat & simmer 30 minutes, stirring occasionally.

*Susan loves turkey bacon, not because it's going to fool anyone into thinking that it's real bacon, but because it provides a wonderful smoky sweet flavor.
The chipotle is what makes this Susan's favorite.
Plus it's easy.
And fast.


In Susan's chilly little corner of the universe it was warm on Sunday. For lack of anything better to do the husband proclaimed it Family Fun Day and handed everyone a rake. Susan wore a patch of skin off her hand in ten minutes,
a few people stepped in poop, and the yard got cleaned.
Susan even saw two ladybugs, unless the one inside was the same one that was outside then some mosquitoes showed up. How does that happen? They must reconstitute above a certain temperature. The husband played basketball in the street with the kids and time moved slowly, in a nice way.
Susan's front stoop is now swept and neat, colored lights frame the doorway and her threadbare welcome mat was recycled when she flipped it over.
A well placed sunny Sunday can make a big difference in Susan's mental outlook. At least temporarily.


It's day eight but Susan's wants to blog about how she spent day seven cooking and baking to take her mind off of how f*cking broke she is. If having no available cash weren't bad enough, she ran out of garlic and is almost entirely out of flour and laundry soap.

Susan started the morning by stepping in dog pee.
Let's just assume that she steps in dog pee every day this way she won't have to waste energy mentioning it again and again.
In the shower she thought she was going to have a heart attack, Susan had to get a grip.
The only way out of this level of anxiety was to bake.

Earlier in the week she had opened a large can of pumpkin for who remembers what and her goal was now to use up the rest. Susan was sauteing the onions for her chili when she found out about the garlic. Argh.
She added the rest of the ingredients including a cup of pumpkin, she likes to add pumpkin to her chili.
She moved on to making two loaves of pumpkin bread while the chili simmered.
Susan mixed the last of the pumpkin into the batter for two brownies that she microwaved in cups, then she prepared some butternut squash for roasting.
The bread came out of the oven, the squash went in,
then the squash came out and in went a pan of brownies into which Susan had swirled peanut butter and jelly.
The husband likes them that way.
While she was waiting Susan made a simple orange glaze to pour over the bread.

Susan was able to relax enough to enjoy her Little sister's family when they came over to eat the brownies and watch a Woody Allen movie.

NaBloPoMo, who sez quality suffers?


Even though Susan knows better she'll still pick up a Martha Stewart Living magazine if she sees one lying around. Susan doesn't dislike Martha or anything, she just finds her to be unrealistically labor intensive and a bit much with the table settings and fancy pie crusts.
The other day Susan found the current MSL sitting unattended so she grabbed it.

MSL starts off with Martha's Calendar and is filled with things like apply bonemeal to planted spring flowering bulbs and work it into the soil using a cultivator and
seal stone terraces. But it's not all ridiculous because she's also got stock liquor cabinet scheduled early in the month.

Martha shows us how to make a simple birdseed and suet bird feeder molded in a wonton soup container, but first we must rend two pounds of suet. Next.
How about cooking a spatchcocked turkey? It requires that we cut out the backbone, open the turkey like a book & then break the breastbone on each side so that the turkey lies flat.
Glitter painting could be adapted into a cute craft if Susan gave a crap.
There were a number of quick breads that looked to be right up Susan's alley but they each required two sticks of butter. That's a stick and a half too much.

There were plenty of recipes and crafts and articles but Susan wasn't interested in any of them. The one thing that stood out were how many advertisements there were for Martha's own products; Martha Stewart Weddings, Martha Stewart's Dinner at Home, Martha Stewart Tinsel Glitters, Martha Stewart for 1-800-Fowers.com, Martha Stewart for grandinroad and Martha Stewart in a Got Milk? ad.

Susan will be dropping MSL into the magazine recycling bin at her library over the weekend.

Day seven's in the books.


Project Runway

Day 6.
How come Susan's not all excited about PR this season?
I mean, she still watches it but she doesn't bother calling her little sister the next day to talk about it, she doesn't care about who makes what, there's not even anybody who bugs her. What's wrong? Do you think it's Susan? Because she thinks it's them.
On second thought, there are a few things that have bugged her this season; she totally doesn't want to watch the designers interact with eachother unless they're ganging up to b*tch about someone. She's had it with faggy boys who giggle and run like girls. Had it.
Epperson kind of bugged her but she can't remember why. At any rate, she's glad she doesn't have to look at his forehead or listen to anyone say 'Epperson' anymore.
She didn't like Nicholas' fat face, greasy hair and boring blather. She was glad when he got booted off too.
Are you a little surprised to see Susan turning ugly? A little disappointed? Susan believes that TV people have signed up for this sort of nasty scrutiny and she doesn't feel bad for providing it.
Susan found that she likes Christopher's voluminous ruffly things, it makes her all weepy for everything that Christian made last season. Christopher is lucky he made it this far, he won't live much longer.
We all know that the mean girl, Irina is going to win because she's the most talented and has the stomach for cutthroat business interactions.


Day five; Dental issues.
Over the weekend Susan's temporary cap fell out and she bit it in two. She's already fed up with her dental practice even though it's a relatively new relationship. She had four teeth requiring attention when she sought the intervention of We Do It All Dental Care. The first problem was left over from 2001 when she bit into a Baby Ruth candy bar and swallowed half her tooth. The most recent problem was earlier this year when she bit into a soft piece of macaroni and said 'Ouch!'

Anyway, We Do It All was very nice while they were courting Susan but once she turned herself over to them they were all You owe us $150 for today's visit every bloody time she went. Then, when Susan was sitting in the chair about to have a permanent tooth installed she was invited to leave and come back six weeks later, the length of time it took them to clear up a previous insurance discrepancy. Susan wasn't down with that at all and didn't go back for months and months and months until she got a letter saying that We Do It All was cutting Susan loose and where did she want her dental records sent?

Susan returned this past Saturday to have them finish what they started. However, since she'd been avoiding them for so long the permanent tooth didn't fit and another one would have to be made at an additional cost. They cemented the old temporary back in and sent her to the b*tchy office c*nt to make an appointment for two weeks later. Susan sat directly in front of the b*tchy office c*nt for a full three minutes and was never told that she still had some powdery white cement on her chin. Susan found this out in public when she caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror.

Later that evening after Susan bit her temporary cap in two she phoned We Do It All and got their service.
We Do It All except phone Susan back it seems.


On day four Susan got her hair cut.
She likes to keep it short, lesbian short. Susan's former therapist said that she made herself a visual target,
why can't Susan just like her hair short?

She goes to a neighborhood place where Kitty cuts her hair for twelve dollars. They each have a boy in the same grade and a girl in the same grade, so they compare disciplinary strategies. Susan and Kitty agree that jumping up & down and screaming is essential for the relaxing after-effect it has on the screamer. It's not so good as a motivational tool.

Susan used to go to a friend's salon and pay forty dollars for the haircut, forty for the color and ten dollars to the girl who washed her hair. But that was one job & a recession ago, now Susan buys a box of L'Oreal #6R and likes the color better.

Periodically Susan gets the impression that some may think her hairstyle too short, but that's alright. Susan's almost fifty (well, next year) and doesn't mind when someone isn't in love with her hair as long as they keep it to themselves.

Can't wait till day five, eh?


Day three and Susan has nothing to write about.
She told you all that this would happen and yet,
you encouraged her. She hopes you're happy now.
Sit back and hear why Susan was unsatisfied with her lunch today.

One of the perks of Susan's workplace, Acme Sweatshop, is that lunch is provided for the employees. Susan isn't about to b*tch about the hand that feeds her because she generally enjoys her lunches, but not always.

Today, Susan got to lunch late and found a solitary plate of cold pizza waiting for her. This was totally not going to be enough food to carry Susan through the afternoon, neither was it a good looking plate of cold pizza. She went into the kitchen to see what else was available and found a plate of lettuce. Not salad greens with some olives or a tomato, just a plate of lettuce. Even Susan's mother served a better salad back in the '70s.

Susan took the plate of lettuce and the plate of cold pizza and a cup of salad dressing over to a table to join an old Real Estate section of the Times already waiting. She cut up her pizza, dumped it onto the lettuce and poured the dressing over it. She ate it without enthusiasm while reading how it takes over an hour for a fella from Brooklyn to mass transit himself to his girlfriend in upper Manhattan, 14 miles away.

Susan will see you tomorrow.


Susan has been preparing for the final days of her elderly, semi-continent, arthritic dog by giving her food from the table, letting her sleep on the couch and by not over reacting when she pees on Susan's feet.

The twelve year old boxer has slowed down but still able to enjoy her usual compliment of activities; roaming the yard, licking grease from the barbecue, having a nosh from the compost pile, trying to hump the neighbor's dog. Then last week she took to the couch and didn't leave except to eat and go potty, by invitation. When Susan came home from work the dog would barely look up, making no effort to move around or even wag her tail. Sad stuff. Susan knew that the dog would not be around to beg for food at Thanksgiving.

Susan took an old quilt and threw it on top of the dog's bed for when she couldn't make it back onto the couch. Susan watched as the dog attempted to position herself on the quilt, obviously in pain, but collapsed instead and fell asleep as if she had no strength at all to make the teeniest adjustment to her limbs or head. From this point on Susan began checking that the dog was still breathing and discussed with the husband about where they would bury her.

Friday night Susan had a date with her little sister to watch 'All About Eve' at cousin Lisa's house. She told everyone of her impending loss, got a little sympathy then they all sat down to watch watching Bette Davis and Celeste Holm grow to hate Anne Baxter.

Saturday morning Susan's neighbor came over to let his dogs run in her yard, this attracted the elderly, deaf dog's attention so she got off the couch and hobbled outside to see what was up. She seemed to make a teeny bit of a comeback keeping her distance from the other dogs but walking and pooping with much less of a labored effort.
For the rest of the afternoon she was barking at trick or treaters, following people into the kitchen and walking down the back steps of the deck instead of falling down them. At dinner she took her usual spot underneath the dining table instead of sleeping through it in the living room.

This is all Susan needed to cheer her up and banish the dog from the couch once again.



As TWISTED, smart & funny as Susan may be she's unable to consistently come up with anything worth reading. Beginning right this second Susan has decided to enter NaBloPoMo and force herself to write a blog post every day for a month. Oy. Susan's better suited to WipeHerHineyEveryDay because she's pretty confident that she can work it into her schedule.

Susan's not sure what constitutes a regulation post with NaBloPoMo. Four sentences? She doesn't know if she can even think up four sentences every day and then squeeze them in between all the other things she's got to do, like;
managing her economic anxiety
wiggling her broken tooth
giving her elderly dog cookies for no good reason
muting all the television commercials
and making Hamburger Helper again for dinner.

This is barely even a post, but it'll have to do.