It sometimes astonishes me how I act when I get tired. First it's just slight irritability - then a headache - and then almost anger (which is NOT a normal emotion for me) - and finally resignation and a resolve to simply cope with reality.

After waiting some four hours, I was long past the anger, and tried to be patient with the wait for "Dehlia" (Delhlia?), a greyhound up for an adoption today. Finally the foster parent showed up; a long-haired, 'fag'-smoking (I am saying fag because I am not entirely convinced that it contained tobacco at all) gentleman about my age, who was in fact obviously very very fond of Dehlia - an extremely multi-colored female grey; multi-colored in being sort of Dalmatian-spotted, random sections of almost tiger/tabby orange and black. But also affection, and NOT at all hyper.

Yes, I was weak, I was weary - I said "yes."

But we brought her home. And so far she is being great - very passive with my dog (who is not at all the alpha-male), avoids the cat completely (who IS the alpha-male), eats politely when my dog is finished, and asks nicely to go outside when necessary. She accepts the horses simply as over-sized dogs, and walks very calmly on a leash.

I'm just grateful she is sleeping in my husband's room, and not mine.

It's only 8:20 p.m., and quite cool now - I am trying to summon up the energy to go finish the painting in my study (i.e. walls, not any attempt at artwork), since it didn't get touched at all today. As I get older, I think I understand more and more why people use drugs - if I could give myself an adrenalin shot right now, I think I would.