Bad Days, Big Dogs

With all the TMI I do put in here you may wonder if I write EVERYTHING here. The answer? No. I don't. Do I leave out the boring stuff, making Margaret Mason proud? No. Not always (obviously, you, readers, would know! Ha!) But as depressing as I sometimes write, I keep a lot of my darkest ugliest thoughts private. Not because I am trying not to scare people, even, usually. Just because sometimes things are worse out loud... or... you know... Typed. They are worse to ME. Better swept under for awhile. Maybe.

I don't know, maybe none of that makes sense. I am mostly just venting to myself, because it's been a bad week... a bad weekend. I hate Depression. And I really REALLY hate Anxiety attacks.

ANYWAY, DONE with this weekend. I am back home, me and the suggies. We left for a little while. Stayed the night at the Padres. And I went to sacrament meeting! Yay! Also, my stomach is doing better and I am talking to the Psych tomorrow and I am going to work. So, yeah. Good. And hopefully getting better.

And now I will delight all with pictures of my boyfriend's dogs being bigger than him. Okay, correction, not now. Tomorrow. Because meds finally kicked in and I have to sleep whenever it lets me!

NOW it is the next day (aka: Monday) and I am here to delight all with pictures of my boyfriend's dogs being bigger than him. Because yesterday was their birthday!
That's Demi (sister).
That's Darby (brother).And that's Darby, Demi, and their Daddy, Fresno!

HUGE. (Fresno is not short, even.)