Jamaican Me Crazy

I think my dog is driving me insane.

You might think it's because he knocked our trash can over this morning so he could drag the remains of the whole chicken we cleaned last night all over my house while I screamed at and chased him*, but you'd be wrong...although now that I think about it, that might be a contributing factor.

It's actually not anything he's doing on purpose - unless he purposely has eerily human-like facial expressions that make me want to speak to him as if he were human. This is where the crazy comes in. I've gotten so comfortable talking to the dog when no one else is around that I've found myself being comfortable talking when not even he is around -- meaning I'm just talking to myself.

The first instance (that I'm aware of) happened this morning. After a particularly successful rendezvous with my bathroom scale, I cursed my own laziness for not getting up and working out this morning as I could plainly see the benefits of having done it on Monday. But the cursing was not merely internal. I believe the precise words were, "Damn. I should have gotten up this morning; I could have been even farther ahead." The moment the words were out of my mouth, I froze. "What am I doing? DAMNIT! WHY AM I STILL DOING IT?!"

So naturally once I was finished getting ready, I promptly checked myself into the nearest mental hospital. Luckily they have free Wi-Fi.

*I swear he's not bad all the time. I think all this below-zero nonsense is affecting his judgment.