As I sat in Allison's room contemplating fun Tuesday night bar adventures, all I could think about was "well... what about the puppy?" It was one of those situations where nothing, no matter how hard you think about it, seems to be the right answer -- kinda like an LSAT games section question:
There is a puppy who is currently in location A. There is an Asian man and a 20-year old fake-ID yielding woman with said puppy in location A. Friends of both adventure-seeking people are at Charley's, a bar 1.2 miles away. The puppy needs to poop. Do you...
a) Take the puppy home, play, and go to bed.
b) Take the puppy with you, leave it in the car and find a DD after you get blackout.
c) Take the puppy home, walk him, play with him, coax him to bed, change, take a cab to the bar, and find that it is already 2AM, you moron.
d) Realize that having a puppy when you want to go out essentially sucks a fatty.
Though I was one of the arguably busiest kids on campus when I was still a student, one of the biggest issues I have run into with Roddick is actually time management. I mean, it's not just finding time to go on a morning jog or making sure he stops drinking water by 10pm so he doesn't get a doggy UTI holding it in all night. It's the fact that he's seriously cutting into my drinking time and I refuse to tolerate such nonsense.
As some of you know, I landed quite a sweet (legit) job in Ann Arbor, where my hours are 3pm-11pm, Sunday through Thursday (Friday/Saturday off). At first thought, it's a very weird shift... but given more thought, it's the best hours anyone coming right out of college could hope for. Theoretically, I could party until 5 in the morning, sleep a full 8 hours, and still have time to grab lunch before I would have to go, this also means I could literally party every single night. Though I wish I were that big of a party boy, I tend to become a lame homebody at times, so it would be a complete lie to say I drink every night of the week. Four or five times maybe, but definitely not seven.
Unfortunately, it doesn't seem like there is a simple solution for this. If I go out, he'll be lonely. If I stay in, I'll be lame and sad and depressed and suicidal. If we both go out...
Alas, there doesn't seem to be a simple solution to this issue. I've resolved to make a compromise with the pup himself (we've learned to communicate in Esperanto) to mix it up. I have no problems with going home right after work and just relaxing (oh, growing up), but he's also gotta suck it up and be okay if I come back at 2am stinking of the bar and passing out in his crate (surprisingly easy thing to do... don't ask).
So, it's 11:10pm right now I am about to go out. What am I going to do, you ask? After all of this, I've hired a puppy sitter.
-tcoroddick
