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I don’t know what Rosie Finlinson has against Justin Bieber, but I approve.

Saturday almost cracked me. First the ordeal with Daisy and then Rosie Finlinson’s trip to doggy ER, but somehow I managed to find a silver lining, which you can read in this week’s “That’s What She Said.”

Saturday morning after carefully examining Daisy, the vet agreed I should probably let her go.

I cried.

He hugged me.

It was awkward.

He sensed my hesitation and gave me a second option: pain and anti-inflammatory medication. I asked for a few minutes to think about it and immediately called my brother. Putting my dog down was not something I wanted to do alone. Ben didn’t pick up, so I selfishly put off the inevitable and asked the vet to medicate her for pain.

I took Daisy home and within a few hours she was wagging her tail–something she hasn’t done in quite some time. My wise friend Susan said if I’m not ready, Daisy isn’t ready. I think she might be right.

I know I’ve got to let her go sooner or later, but it’s going to have to be later. I need more time with her, and my brother needs time to hold this over my head. I can hear him now, “No, Sarah I won’t fix your garbage disposal. I already saved your dog’s life this month. Isn’t that enough?”

One of my New Year’s resolutions was to stop cheating so much on my vegan diet.

This particular resolution lasted two whole days.

Sporty Nerd brought homemade cookies into the office and delivered them to me via remote controlled truck. These aren’t any old cookies; these cookies are crack cocaine chocolate chip cookies. They are impossible to refuse!

So I didn’t. I enjoyed the hell out of them. And then immediately changed my resolution to only cheating on veganism when nerds, toys and/or addictive drugs are involved.

I want Monday back. I know, right? I hate Mondays, yet I want last Monday and every Monday before that back. I would do anything to have the ability to rewind time.

Why?

Skinny thighs and a face without wrinkles. Duh. But that’s not all. I want more time with Daisy.

That silly, little one-eyed pug who stole my heart 13 years ago isn’t going to be here much longer. My girl can barely get around these days. She can’t jump on the couch or even go on a nightly walk. It’s fucking heartbreaking. I’ve selfishly been trying to ignore her pain because I can’t image life without her, but it’s time to stop thinking about myself and think about her.

Saturday we’re going to take a trip to see her least favorite person in the world: her vet. He will assess her pain and tell me if it’s time to let her go or not. Just thinking about it brings tears to my eyes. I’m not sure if I can do this, but I guess I don’t really have a choice.

I’m so not ready for this. And yet I have to be.

This week’s “That’s What She Said” is about meeting Steve Wozniak. Yeah, I know right? You can see photos from the night here.

My plans of being the most popular neighbor didn’t quite work out. Read about it in this week’s “That’s What She Said.”

Do you remember the Mr. Men and Little Miss books from the 80s? I loved them! My mother would refer to me as Little Miss Bossy, Little Miss Trouble, Little Miss Stubborn, Little Miss Bad or Little Miss Naughty depending on my mood and behavior. Not once did she call me Little Miss Helpful, Little Miss Neat, Little Miss Sunshine or Little Miss Splendid.

I think it’s safe to assume my mom was calling me Little Miss Asshole, behind my back.

Since then, I’ve often describe my moods with the book characters. And now, for the first time ever, Little Miss Scatterbrain has surfaced. Bitch. Wait… did I just call the character a bitch or myself a bitch? Both are accurate, I suppose.

Lately I am so all over the place. Sure everyone is scattered now and then. How many of us misplace our keys on a daily basis? Me. And probably you. That’s normal and not at all what I’m dealing with. I’m forgetting important life details. Like how many eyes my puppy has.

TRUE STORY.

I’ve been accidentally kenneling the wrong dog. The first few times I was convinced someone was breaking into my house and switching dogs just to fuck with me.

Because, seriously, the difference is obvious:

I’m hoping Little Miss Scatterbrain moves along soon. Otherwise I’m going to end up Little Miss Drinks Herself Into a Coma. That’s a character, right? Well it should be.

I stupidly bought the only house in Utah without rain gutters. I didn’t think it was a big deal. As it turns out, BIG is exactly what happens without them. Look at the size of my icicles:

The largest is a whopping 62 inches!

My brothers offered to install rain gutters over Christmas, but since their only gutter experience doesn’t apply to this particular situation, I decided to wait until spring.

The thought of them slipping on an icy ladder and cracking their head open wasn’t my ideal Christmas break. I pretty much saved their lives, and guaranteed they’d be around long enough to sod my back yard. I hope they are thankful.