August has not been a pleasant month in the same way that root canals aren’t a pleasant afternoon diversion.

But I survived Irene, the earthquake, and the corgi’s emergency surgery with something akin to aplomb. Mind you, my survival plan for the hurricane was to flee to Northern Virginia and crash at my Mom’s (with three dogs and a cat in a compact car—fun times, fun times), but it all worked out in the end.

The corgi will have an impressive scar to show off to the ladies, I got to buy a sawsall (Obo the Destroyer—Bob the Builder’s evil twin), and I got to visit with Mom, abet under less than ideal circumstances.

I’m really not sure if I should be looking forward to September or not…