Things they didn't tell you about (wo)man's best friend

I'm tired. Not like, it's been a rough week tired, but TIRED tired. This weekend marks week 5 with George, and let me know tell, it's been a long five weeks. So if last post was (mostly) about the positive things about owning a dog. This post is about the stuff they left off the marketing brochure:

-I haven't slept a solid 9 (or 8) hours in 5 weeks. I'm really tired. All the time.

-Scrubbing "accident" areas and chasing down George before he poops in the wrong place has replaced yoga class and lounging on the couch

-I need a manicure. (and a pedicure for that matter, but who's keeping track?) This is the longest I've gone without one, in oh, 5 years?

-I now find it normal that I examine the duration, size, and quality of his bowel movements on a daily basis

-The only fashion sites that I keep up with are the ones related to dog leash/leads, beds, and other related dog stuff. When is that damn Trish Hampton collar coming out in George's size anyway?

-My mind now has the magical ability to map any potential social invite to George's sleep, nap, play, crate and potty schedule and make sure there are no conflicts before I respond "yes" or "no"

-George's playdates are a perfectly acceptable form of dinner and/or hanging out with friends from my former pre-George life

-I only wear heels when he is at daycare. Or at home in his crate. My Louboutins are crying. My Lanvin flats are on such rigourous rotation they're getting dizzy.

Yes, I still love him. Yes, I'll still bring him to NYC. But a girl is allowed to rant once in a while, right?