The first week back from work after a wonderful vacation is always a pain in the booty. The sad thing is, all the goals and plans I made to get things done around the house did not happen, with the exception of the usual weekly laundry and cleaning of the animals.

It’s ok though, I spent days after my Cincinnati trip just laying around and getting a tan. It was a great de-stressor, and that will probably save my face for a few weeks from the “stress acne” as I like to call it when I’m always worrying about everything about life.

I’m still in shock I got to meet David Cook. My little cousin, Lyn, made fun of me so much for it, but she’s currently on a Jonas Brothers kick so everyone sucks except for the Jonas Brothers:

They are cute little pretty boys, but pretty boys are just not my cup of tea anymore…yes I was a screaming little girl once into Hanson, NSync and Backstreet Boys…rough, rugged men are what obviously gets my hormones in a raging fit now.

I do joke, but the rough, rugged type is more my taste in men now-a-days…minus the raging hormones.

Speaking of animals, I was running late for work last Monday morning (like I always am) and found a dead duck in our driveway. I seriously stood there for a few minutes to see if it was really a duck or not, then I felt bad. An animal lover like me does not like to see dead animals. Then I had to stop and wonder why in the hell was there a duck, dead or alive, doing in our neighborhood. There’s no pond near my neighborhood at all, and I live in the suburbs, ducks are a rare thing to see.

I remember a few months ago I almost stepped on a bird’s egg in the grass in my backyard and didn’t want anyone to mow over it, so I put it back in its nest. I knew the mommy bird most likely would not come back to it now that I’ve touched it, but it was worth a try. I never went back to see what happened to the egg.

Of course, I didn’t pick up the dead duck; I’m going to make my boyfriend do that. But it’s been sitting dead in the driveway all day. Phew! He’d probably get mad at me suggesting that poor Donald deserves a burial, (YES, I named the damn dead duck, ok?) instead of being thrown in the trash, but I think my parents have seen enough burials with all the animals I’ve had in the past. There’s hamster’s, guinea pigs and Lord knows what else I don’t remember owning when I was a kid buried in our backyard. A duck would certainly top the cake.

Then I also had to stop and wonder if maybe my dog Oso got it and killed it. My poor baby a duck killer? No way! Ok…maybe. My poodle Pepper brought newborn baby rabbits to our back porch step one time that she found in our backyard. We had to try and nurse them ourselves because we didn’t know where Pepper had got the baby rabbits. They eventually all ended up dying and I think we buried the baby rabbits too. The duck might join them, who knows?

Credits: Duck Photo from Hicker Photos.