Monday night I didn’t get to watch The Bachelorette until late, so I figured I’d get up Tuesday morning and write a recap. I had so many thoughts, after all, what with Ryan telling Emily that she’d better not gain weight after they get married and Kalon essentially saying “SHUT IT” when Emily was trying to ask him a question, not to mention the interviews with Emily’s friends and DOLLY PARTON SANG A SONG, MY WORD.
Yesterday morning got away from me, though, mainly because our puppy girl (who is 14, by the way, but she’s still a puppy to us) had a vet appointment. She’s been little not-quite-herself lately, but we sort of figured that was to be expected since she’s, oh, pushing the century mark in people years. After about five minutes with the vet, though, I started to pick up on the fact that All Was Not Well. The doctor did some blood work and x-rays, and no kidding: within an hour they had her in surgery to remove a softball-sized tumor on her spleen.
Bless her heart. No wonder she hadn’t been herself lately.
Anyway, she did great after the surgery, and the vet feels really good about her recovery, but once she gets home she has to take it super-easy. I say that like she’s normally a wild woman, staying out until all hours of the night and setting a bad example for the other neighborhood dogs by smoking cigarettes and defying her authority figures. That’s not exactly the case considering that her life consists of alternating between the dog bed in our bedroom and the dog bed in the living room, with a little sunshine time in the driveway for good measure. But the vet said that Miss Ally needs to be a total couch potato for the next week, pampered even more than usual, and it was all I could do not to stand up and say, “Doctor, that is not a problem. I may have majored in English, but I minored in couch potato, and I will happily spend the next week introducing Ally to all the Real Housewives in all their respective cities.”
But I didn’t want to alarm him. So I just nodded and said, “Yes, sir.” That seemed like the path of least resistance.
After supper last night I decided that I really needed to get started on my Bachelorette recap, but not until I checked the Mississippi State message boards to see if there was any new information about the NCAA baseball regionals. Because, well, as a middle-aged wife and mama, it’s of the utmost importance that I keep my finger on the pulse of State’s pitching decisions for their round 1 game against Samford. Forget figuring out what I’m going to cook my family for supper and the shameful condition of my refrigerator and the fact that I have a huge deadline on July 1. The most pressing issue, CLEARLY, is if we’re planning to pitch Stratton or Graveman.
(Really, I am just an organizational wonder. I would offer to lead some seminars on my crackerjack efficiency strategies, only I’d forget to show up for the seminars the second that I got caught up in some captivating online discussion about SEC quarterbacks or I started pinning encouraging sayings (with cute graphics!) on Pinterest or (true story) I discovered a website that analyzes the wardrobe choices on each episode of Mad Men.)
SO, since baseball monopolized my attention last night, I went to bed thinking, TOMORROW. I will write about The Bachelorette tomorrow. Unfortunately, I had no way of knowing that our power was going to go out a little before midnight – and it’s still out. I don’t know what happened, but I do know that there are about five Alabama Power trucks in our neighborhood, along with a brand new hole that’s approximately the size of the Grand Canyon. I’m hopeful that the power / DVR / electrical everything will be fully operational soon, but in the meantime the little man and I are hanging out at our favorite Starbucks while I charge my computer.
And listen. If I could bottle the air conditioning at this Starbucks? I WOULD TAKE EVERY BIT OF IT HOME WITH ME.
So there you have it: my litany of excuses for not posting about The Bachelorette. My intentions were good, but our dog’s spleen / my adult-onset ADD / a late-night thunderstorm conspired against me. Even still, I’d love to know what y’all thought about the episode. Plus, reading your comments on my phone will give me a way to pass the late afternoon hours when I’m waiting for D to get home and trying to not think about how my house is a burning hot inferno of stuffiness.
(Something tells me that I’m going to have a whole new appreciation for Caroline Ingalls before the day is over.)
(I’ll let you know if I decide to cook supper in the fireplace.)
(But I can assure you that I will not be wearing any sort of bonnet.)