kvetching up

Mornings, Saturday mornings especially, are my favorite time of day after pitch darkness. Fresh news to listen to and read, a cacophony of birdsong--almost a gentle fury--drowns out even the highway noise at 5 a.m., and the sense that Willow and I are alone in the world. It all makes for the perfect start to many days.  This morning Willow had me up after 3. After crating her last night and ignoring her protestations of lockdown, her anxiety turned way, way down. By this morning the only remnants of the drugging are the intermittent shaking of her head--making her ears flap loudly on the sides of her head, and the more than occasional obsession with her bottom. She has been to the vet 2x in the last two weeks, so I am certain she doesn't have mites in her ears or some urinary tract infection, but I am fairly certain we are going back to the vet this week to make sure the behaviors aren't evidence of illness.  I gave Willow a treat at about 3:15 a. m., when I woke to her whimpe...

8:09 AM  Willow the Pillow I'm early. I'm almost always early. Its the worst when you know you don't want to be early, but can't help leaving so that you can get there early. The vet said get here at 8:15. I hate late, so here I am. Willow hates the vet's office and knows we have arrived. She is making her discontent clear; her whinging understandable given her first contact with the vet's office in a year was last week, which consisted of shot after shot. She wasn't behind on her vaccines, in fact she was on schedule, but she had a shitload to get and got them she did. So, now I am afraid of getting her out of the car, for fear she will drag me at 20 miles per hour away from here.  8:58 AM  Back home. Work is as crazy as ever. I am hating this being alone without Willow--this is the first time since we have had her where she isn't home with me or out on a walk. Wild.  Willow has been groomed precisely twice in her life. The first groom, done by a mobil...

 Entry 1     8:42 a.m.  I am in my office. Many people around, all from my team, waiting for the staff meeting to start. I am excited to gtfo of here.  The commute took 45 minutes--I can do it in 10 on a Sunday.  I don't miss coming to the office. I am glad to see other human beings that I work with, IRL, however.  I showered, shaved and brushed my hair this morning, a chore I do less frequently at home since the advent of COVID-19 work from home mandates. I am surprised I could tame the wild shock of hair on my head given that the last time it was cut the leaves had not even started to change color, nor the night become so much longer that it was noticeable.  I am filled with a sense of dread today for what is coming. I looked at the horizon, filled with Seattle skyscrapers as I was driving in, and was struck by the indifference of the universe . Dansul Mortii, Guy Marchand, 1485. I think having our own danse macabre in the form of this canc...