Not Inflated, but a Solid Lifelike Depiction of a Real Girl!

The housesitting finished this morning, thank goodness. I was starting to develop a kind of Stockholm Syndrome, I think, where I was beginning to really like the neurotic dog who occupied the home. (Dog was terrified of noise to the extent that any pee break involved a slow creeeep out the door, looking around, alert for anything unusual. Any noise at all - car door slamming, loud laughter, windchimes - would cause her to scoot back inside and resolutely pee on the carpet.) So this morning as I tidied the place back to the condition it was in when I arrived, I realized I had forgotten something.
The lawn.
As I gazed at the rapidly yellowing expanse, I thought maybe I should water it. This was accomplished the old-fashioned way, with a hand-sprayer, since they lacked built-in sprinklers, the barbarians. Everything was going well until I switched from "jet" to "mist" (seemed like a more whimsical way to do the job, somehow) and the resulting side spray soaked my keyring.
Which had my car alarm clicker on it.
I have to say, I am actually pretty pleased with the way I handle these little disasters these days. Losing my job and gotten divorced and all of that trauma shit has made me realize that if immediate flaming death isn't involved, it's really no big deal. I placed some (okay, I admit it) slightly hysterical phone calls, took the thing apart to let it dry, paced a bit, refrained from kicking dog as she yipped and puddled all around me, watched Good Morning America, tried it again, and hallelujah, it worked.
Oh, and I also got an iBook for free, but I'll save that for next time.