If only the eyedrops I take to prevent my blood vessels from creeping up around my perpetually dry contact lenses were actually an antidepressant opthalmic solution. I'd be the happiest person with bloodshot eyes around.

Our dog Riley got caught on the fence this week. No, I'm not referring to her indecision about the upcoming election. (although she is probably the most rational mind in the Miller household regarding inflammatory topics like car privileges and Obamaphilia, and I'm sure she's the type who would vote for whomever we expressed the least amount of hatred for) I'm referring to the latch on our gate piercing her side, Passion of the Boxer style, and finding her limping around the backyard with an ominous air pocket by her back leg.

I really hope she's okay.