Pavlov lives in my house

Audrey has never had a forced air heater before my current apartment. Within the first hour of it turning on and off, she got all Pavlov's Dogs on me. Now, as soon as she hears the heater click on she stops whatever she is doing to sprawl out on the ground in front of it. It makes me think maybe she is really cold, but she isn't shivering. She probably just loves the heat blowing on her. Audrey is totally calm during this time too, its a nice break from her constantly wanting to play fetch with that rubber foot Kevin got her.

Work is now officially de-stressed which is great, and my exercise/diet has been on track. I should hopefully fit back into all my clothes by Thanksgiving as long as I don't screw up. With no baseball game hot dogs and a decrease in drinking I should be fine and back to normal soon.

I was talking to some guy friends last night, and started to worry that maybe I've become the "guys' girl" - the girl who is always friends with guys but never the girl they want to date. Doesn't do much for my self-esteem. Do I really talk about turds and baseball and gross sex moves that often these days? I was thinking about the possibility of a dichotomy between the "hot girl" and the "cool girl." Everything swirling through my head got me pretty upset, and kept me from sleeping very well. But at the same time I would never want to date someone who only wanted some major hot girl (and they would never want to date me if that's all they wanted as well). I had it much more well composed in my head this morning, but a busy work day has erased what I wanted to type.

And in the irritating cycle that is Audrey and my life revolving around her - she has brought me every toy she owns in the past five minutes and thrown them on my laptop's keyboard so I'll get off this thing and play with her. Smart dog! And of course I'll comply. Who's training who here?