I really need to work on my french toast-making skills. You’d think someone who has always loved them could make them. I fell short of flavor, Gordon Ramsay would’ve had my ass. “What is this soggy tasteless egg slab? This isn’t even edible…” Yet Patrick still ate it all and was sweet about it. It’s just me being hard on myself, but I’m not dumb. I am nowhere near the status of a “woman in the kitchen” but I try. I want to be. I’m a rare one.

I noticed even with something so simple, I’m still so negative about my skills. Oof… I almost feel like I need to discredit myself or bring myself down so no one else can. Preemptive criticism.

I took Dexter on a walk this morning as soon as I woke up. The weather was beautiful, around 60 and sunshine in the sky. We took our walk around the lake and behind the buildings. It’s peaceful and I talk to God when I do this. My thoughts can go really out there. On the way back I was thinking that if I were a dog breed, I’d be a corgi/husky mix. I’m short, have an attitude of a big dog, tons of personality(ies), and want to lead the pack. Then I imagined what I would look like if I were drawn as a character on Bluey. So now, I’m going to make that become a reality. I also thought about Patrick and I see him as an Irish wolfhound but he’d have red tint sprinkled throughout him. I am going to draw these out at some point.

I then thought about each dog unique to the person and the size of the dog as problems in our lives. I’ve got a large husky/malamute mix. So my issues are decently sized and shed (follow me) everywhere I go. I’m ready for a medium-sized dog. I want a corgi and I want to name her Lady. I already have a collar with her name on it. One day.

I don’t know why my thoughts go these ways during my day. They just do.