Too tired to think of title. But not too tired for alliteration.

Long day.  Long, long day.  Hungry day, too.  And it wasn't just me.  JD was hungry also.  We are both drinking hot drinks after dinner in the hopes of convincing our tummies that we are full.

I went to bed early last night in preparation for today, and I think I'll go to bed early tonight too.  An extra two hours of driving and 30-40 minutes of horse care make my day feel much, much busier.  I hope that by the end of the week Pluto will start cooperating so that I can dash in, rub his ointment on him, and dash out.  At the moment he is drawing it out.  He steps toward me, he steps away.  He wants his cookie but he doesn't want to cooperate.  I hope he figures out quickly that the goop makes him feel good and that I'm not going to do something horrible to his owie.

So, here is a summary of my day:

Get up 45 minutes early.  Race through breakfast.  Forget to take vitamins.
Drive to farm.  Try to convince horse to let me put goop on him.  Halter would have been helpful.
Drive to chiropractor, where she tells me that my pelvis is all tilted.  Again.
Drive to work.  Frantically try to get things done before..
Driving over to pick up DeLee to go to the Asian Pacific American something or other luncheon.  Try to restrain myself in the face of yummy food.  Sadly succeed and remain hungry after inhaling a small plate of deliciousness.
Drop DeLee off, get several minutes of work done.
Walk to other building to sit through incredibly boring two hour presentation.
Take the long way back.  Realize am tired.  And kind of sore.
Work frantically.  Find mistakes I made last month.  Fix them.  Eat emergency popcorn.
Drive to farm.  Repeat dance with horse, this time with halter.
Drive home.  No husband, no dog.  Frantic dog manages to wake husband from pre-dinner coma so she can run downstairs to yarp at me.
Too hungry to wait for dinner.  Start noshing on anything I can find.  Mmm, raspberries.
Eat dinner.  Get the sriracha sweats.

Still to come:  cleaning litter boxes, falling into bed.

I got very little actual exercise today but I'm exhausted.  Various parts keep hurting.  Then they stop hurting.  I feel like I'm a puppet and somebody is yanking my strings.

The last time I had to go out twice a day to take care of Pluto, it was a very, very long week.  Kind of wishing the horse lived closer.  Glad he doesn't require five times a day care like that one time when Playboy hurt his eye.

PS I just heard rustling, clanking, and crashing.  One or more of the cats somehow managed to remove the end knob from a wooden curtain rod about eight feet up over the door, and pulled the curtain off the end of the rod.  A) How the hell did he do that?  B)  Which cat was it, or was it a collaboration?  Andy looked indignant when I accused him.  C) What are the chances they'll leave it alone if I put the curtain back up?