Deplorable Working Conditions

I've been way unproductive lately. I told Jay the other night that one of my vitamins must be really good for nails because suddenly mine are all long and pretty. Usually my nails break on anything and everything, and look all uneven and ugly. Unfortunately, this time they grew too fast, like when I was younger and would get fake ones put on then spend the next few days unable to unbutton my own pants or open doors because it was such a radical change. I'm finding it hard to type, but I haven't had them this pretty probably since my wedding day so my vanity's colliding with my pragmatism, and vanity's in the lead. Jay asked if it's affecting my productivity at work. I pretended it wasn't, though in reality my typing is embarrassingly slowed. But the nails aren't really making me lose money. It's the dog. 

My Pups has a new routine that he's been perfecting for a few weeks and now has me trained like, well, you know. I have a little footstool next to my chair, and he first jumps up on it and sits there staring at me to get my attention. 

I know what's coming so I try to ignore him, but he's figured this out, too. After a few seconds, he becomes Circus Dog, standing up balanced on his back legs only, and he can hold this pose for a LONG time. 

If I still pretend I don't see him (seriously, who could resist a balancing dog right next to them?) he'll sit back down, then get right back up again. And you're probably saying, "Duh, Trisha, take the footstool away." That just adds another step - him reaching up and scratching my arm until I put the step stool back and he can start from the beginning.

Sometimes our little Mexican standoff lasts long enough that he'll rest one paw on my chair arm to maintain balance, but he's even more stubborn and persistent than I am. Eventually I cave, every time, and pick him up and put him in my lap, where he promptly tucks in and falls asleep. 

THIS, not my Cruella De Vil mani, is why I can't work. If you've ever tried to work with a pet in your lap, you know they become limp furballs who require a perfect little niche out of your lap and legs. This is not conducive to working. This is not conducive to anything except his selfish little nap. I find myself in a Twister twist, constantly trying to keep his little butt from falling off. One leg eventually falls asleep, and I do the hokey pokey again, but he just gives me the "WTF?" scowl and flops back down. Usually after 3 or 4 alternating sets of pins and needles (mine, not his, I assume), he gets annoyed and leaves. Within 10 minutes, he's right back up here again. 

Acceptable - Puppy on the back of the couch in the other room.

More acceptable - Puppy on the back of my bed upstairs. 

Call OSHA right now 'cuz this is WAY unacceptable (and he totally knows it). 

How do I break him of this habit? Hell if I know. I can't even make him stop barking whenever someone leaves a room and then comes back. (Why on earth he thinks the kids are different people when they change clothes, I'll never know.) He outlasts even me with his tenacity, and I just can't resist. I think I need a home office away from my home office, one that doesn't allow coworkers, family, and now also pets. And THAT'S what it's all about.