Blogger is down, so I'm putting Sunday's entry on MySpace until I can copy and paste to Ms. Sippi. Seems Blogger.com has had a rocky week. And I was blaming myself and my computer for the problems I had. Don't you know by now, Dear, that not everything is your fault?

I was awakened from my afternoon nap by my husband, who, once again, stayed too long at Margarita's and drank too many of the same. He was ranting and raging because he couldn't get his pants unbuttoned. He had wet himself, so all his clothes had to be changed. "This is the last time I'm helping you when you come home in this condition," I told him. "Why a disabled man would want to make himself even more disabled is beyond me." His response was obscene. I picked up his belt and whopped him hard on his backside. I need an Al-Anon meeting.

He told me last week that we would go to McAllisters for lunch after church, instead of meeting his drinking buddies. I've missed the Sunday lunches we used to share. Obviously, he'd rather get drunk. This is that gray area where it's hard for me to distinguish between Christian duty and co-dependency.

I enjoyed church this morning. I went with low energy and even less enthusiasm. But by the time the choir finished rehearsing, I was beginning to feel human again. Coming home alone to a lunch of leftovers took all the wind out of my sails, though. It was seasoned with plenty of self-pity and recrimination, so I felt lower than a snake's belly by the time I finished. Should I have gone with Mike to make sure he didn't drink too much? Why didn't I let choir friends know I wanted to join them for lunch? Depression still rules on some days, even though I took my Zoloft. "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."

I was bothered, too, by guilt for spending way more than I intended to at the Arbonne party yesterday. What on earth do I want with all those skin care products? Mother Nature blessed me with good skin. I never put much thought or effort into caring for it. Why would I start now? I wonder if Pam would hate me forever if I cancelled my order due to buyer's remorse. She knows we're living on a shoestring and that I can ill afford many extras. I need to go down there first thing tomorrow and talk to her.

I enjoyed meeting a couple of neighbors I'd never met before. One of them has a retired racing greyhound from the Rescue program in Texas. They were out walking when I came in from church, so I stopped and visited. Her dog Doc is 10 years old and very gentle and affectionate. He's the same tan color as Jay-Jay with big, sad eyes. She said he can still run like the wind. When I let Gus and Jay-Jay out, I could tell they were already acquainted with Doc. They used to bark at him, she said, but Doc didn't react, so now they just sniff and nuzzle and go their own way.