It looks like SOMEONE learned the Internets.

After all my kvetching yesterday about the dog’s crusade to make me feel like the Most Unpopular Human Ever every time he's alone at my house, he was actually quite … well … doglike last night. He bounded up to see me when I got home, he stayed happily at my feet while I went through some paperwork and slurped down some soup and TiVoed my way through three episodes of CSI, and he contentedly snuggled up against me all night.

The only logical explanation? He read my blog. Which makes him the Smartest. Dog. Ever.

Except he farted in the elevator last night when we were heading out for a poop. And—trust me on this—you do NOT want to be trapped in an elevator for fifteen floors with a creeping dog fart.

In other news, I did my first leg workout yesterday since I started marathon training last spring. I figured it would be less boring smarter for me not to risk injury in the gym when I was running so much, so I gladly stopped doing all those squats and leg curls and extensions and calf raises and focused on my endurance and distance for the last six-plus months.

And as my thighs and calves grew meatier and stronger this summer, I figured all that running was the perfect alternative to all that lifting. I also figured that when I finally started hitting the weights again I’d have great workouts and easy recoveries.

I figured wrong. When I woke up this morning, I felt as though giant blond bodybuilders with smooth, tan skin and thick, rubbery lips all the demons in hell had spent the night pounding railroad spikes into my calves and pouring liquid tar all over my thighs and hamstrings. And every time I’ve tried to get up and walk after spending more than 30 minutes at my desk today, I’ve had to be retrained in the finer points of balance and locomotion.

Needless to say, my walks to meetings and other meetings and even more meetings have not been runway-fabulous.

And one more thing: My hunky friend Scott has his own marketing and design firm, and he has a little survey he’s designed for a client. So click here if you want to participate. It won’t take five minutes of your time, and it might make Scott so rich he buys me some new legs.