I haven't been feeling that great the last few days. Actually, I haven't been feeling great the last few months. I'm mopey, I'm solemn, I'm drab. I've been avoiding all my chores (although this is usual for me, and it's hard to tell whether it's gotten worse or I've just gotten more aware of it now that we own a house and I can't blame the landlord for any of the home maintenance issues that keep popping up and getting avoided because I am lazy and don't need to start yet another project before we finish the guest room and the braided rag rug for the basement and getting the dryer hooked up and figuring out whether we want to tile the bathroom wall opposite the tub) and fighting off sinus infections and sleeping way more than is usual or healthy (and I'm not sure why, but I can't afford to go to a doctor just because I'm sleepy), and griping about cold weather setting in and generally not feeling like doing anything, even taking the dog to the park, which is sad because she LOVES the park and she LOVES going on walks and I have decided that if I want to get into any kind of shape that isn't "round", I am going to need to make some lifestyle changes, and I had expected that getting a dog would help me do that. Boy, was I ever wrong. I was sad to discover that dogs acquire the habits of their owners, and not the other way 'round, so dragging myself out for walks is still just as difficult, only I get twice the guilt trip (once from myself and once from the dog) when I don't do it.
Anyway, at least SarahThe is making me feel better. I found her blog a few months ago and bookmarked it because I wanted to read the archives. Reading about other peoples' lives makes me feel better. I am an introvert and a people-watcher, and I am a very dedicated blog stalker, when I'm feeling up to reading. So tonight I finally felt like reading, and got through several pages of blog posts from 2008, and with each one I've been smiling a little more and giggling a little more. SarahThe is funny, and fresh, and honest, and I am enjoying reading her posts from 2008.
The dog is also making me feel better. Mystra is not generally my go-to girl for making me smile, since mostly she does what we do - flops around the house, plays games with the cats and eats. She whines when she has to go out and barks to get our attention when the cats try to sleep on top of the fridge. She's very enthusiastic about guarding the house from both teenagers down the street and cats on the fridge. She has recently figured out, however, that she's able to get our attention for play too! And because we have recently changed our schedules (we are prone to staying up until 3am when not otherwise occupied by work, and the husband JUST got a job), she is used to playing with us long after normal people with day jobs have put their dogs to bed.
So tonight, just now at 12:20 AM, when I should have been in bed 2 hours ago because I have an interview on Tuesday morning and need to be awake before noon for once, she came walking up to my desk, fixed me with the "EXCUSE ME" stare, and proclaimed, loudly: "IT'S PLAYTIME." Then she started chewing on my hand, because when there are no toys nearby her idea of play (thanks to my ever-thoughtful husband, who thinks that wrestling with the dog is the best fun ever and should be encouraged never mind that she's 40 lbs of enthusiasm and teeth!) is to play catch-the-hand. She's never quite sure what to do when she catches it, because we long ago taught her that people are not for chewing, but the catching instinct is still very much intact, so she'll put my hand in her mouth and then spit it out, and as soon as the hand moves she tries to catch it again. It's often bad for my hands, since despite her best intentions I almost always come out of it with tooth imprints when she misjudges a pounce, but for some reason (I blame SarahThe and Scout's antics), I giggled at her tonight. A lot.
I should probably go to bed. There are, as usual, a lot of things in my head that want to be put down in the nice white space here, but I should probably let them ferment a little more. I have discovered that my thoughts are like wine; when they haven't been aged properly and the miscellaneous bits haven't settled out, they're often terrible.
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