self-indulgent piffle

The dog that has been mostly living in my kitchen is now pacing around the living room, having a fight with his instincts about nosing the one cat who isn’t hiding from him because every time he does he gets a smack on the nose – from the cat, not me.  Oh man, I think he just ate poop out of the litter box.  I like this dog, but I don’t think I’ll ever be dog people.

I’m trying to figure out if I’m pathologically lazy or just dying of some slug disease.  I am unable to make myself do the housework that really needs to be done.    I’m working up a good head of guilt about it too.  If it were just me I’d let it go, but other people live here so I’m obligated to feel guilty for all the crap I’m not doing.  And now the dog is trying to kiss my face.

Oh hey!  I got a gardening catalog (catalogue?) today.  Flowweeerrrrrrssss.  Rooooossessss.  It’s like a dirty magazine, breeding discontent with reality, promising something unattainable.  It was minus 2 degrees F here last night, but it’s warmed up to a temperate 35.  It is five months before I can set my tomato plants out of doors.  But I can drool.

Poochy and I did take a nice little walk in the woods today.  Brisk, beautiful and refreshing.  I’m not being sarcastic!  The dog even stayed close to me and came back to me when I called him.

So, yeah, I guess the guilt is starting to kick in – I’mma go wash the dishes.


8 thoughts on “self-indulgent piffle

  1. Julie says:

    Oh those gardening catalogs, they’re flower porn. And they take no account for suburban deer, that eat nearly everything I love. *sigh*

    Enjoy a calm, quiet day, and get yourself some Vitamin D (milk?).

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