Sifting through the past few entries I've logged here, I have to say I am embarrassed with myself. More than the brutal honesty, I'm ashamed of the large pronouncements I've made. Things are either on the up and up or headed straight to shit. It's like I'm trapped in some psychobabble binary hell. I'm not sure what's been wrong with me, except that so much has been wrong with R. the past year, I must have felt the need to constantly diagnose our problems. Well, to make another bold (and completely useless, clichéd) statement: I'm putting that in the past. Back to the regular old A. now-- whoever that is. Back to small observations, fleeting thoughts-- you know, normal stuff. Right now, my little puggle is twitching in her sleep, curled up on a pillow on the couch, and my other dog is watching television. He sees everything on the screen and often leaps from the couch barking at the sight of a cartoon monster, someone he doesn't like the looks of, another dog. This is what I love right now; these are the little things that matter.