| 10:54 am |
Seeming to be having a day of general, free-floating disorganization. Been sitting at the computer for nearly three hours now and have accomplished nothing. Bug is staring at me. I'm looking at him with harmless, yet pointed animosity--doesn't he realize there's 16 feet of snow out there? Does he care?
He does not care. He is a labrador. Cold does not affect him. Once I was the proud parent of a Samoyed-German Shepherd mix. She was bothered by the cold. The snow made her feet cold. This was made apparent by the delicate way she walked through it. It was as if she was walked on freshly poured tar.
God, I can't take the pressure. The way he's staring, breathing, his chest heaving, his eyes penetrating. I must walk the dog. Bug is my commander-in-chief. He does not speak but I interpret and accept his orders.
Fucking Minnesota. It is beautiful though. The sun has come out. Might warm up to 20, at which point we will break out the kiddie pool and crack open some Bass ale. Actually, I think I'm gonna go to Target and buy a sled--one of those cheap plastic red sleds made for two--maybe strap on a cooler of grape soda and head for the hills. |