I Can’t Think of a Title Today

I’ve been up since 5.30 this morning.

Actually, that’s not quite true. I didn’t really sleep much at all last night but 5.30 was when I finally gave up, crawled out of bed and took Sparky the Amazing Crack Weazle out for his morning constitutional.

This is all part of the New Plan.

When we first got the dog my wife was more than happy (well, ‘more than happy‘ might be a bit of a stretch) to take Sparky out in the mornings because we both felt it would be safer for her to walk alone early on when the local kids are still sleeping off their crystal meth. I, being the scrawny male counterpart to this marriage, volunteered to do night-times right before bed.

And because I’m so manly, I’m not afraid to portray myself as a psycho so people will leave me alone. (I once asked a friend of mine who liked to take long walks at two in the morning if he wasn’t afraid of the ‘Scary People’. He just said, ‘I pretend that I’m one of the ‘Scary People’. Made sense then and it makes sense now.)

I’m not so scary in the traditional ‘I’m-gonna-knife-you-and-sleep-in-your-carcass’ sense, I’m more the weird guy in milking boots, pajama bottoms (Jim-Jams!) and robe who skulks around the neighborhood shaking his fists at birds and talking to lamp posts (the kids refer to me fondly as ‘Mr. Wellyboots’).

So far this system worked pretty well but Ruth was definitely having to take him out more often than myself (she also takes him out after work) therefore I volunteered to start taking him out mornings as well.

‘It’ll be great!’ I said. ‘I’ll take him out at six, then I’ll shower, make my lunch and I’ll still have an hour before I need to leave for work. I can work on my blog and start writing that book I’ve been thinking about. This is like so totally bitchen! W00t!!1111’

That was last week. You can guess what happened:

1. Woke up.

2. Took dog out for shortest possible amount of time.

3. Back to bed.

4. Feel even worse than if I hadn’t slept at all.

But today’s a new week and here I am typing away at 6.45 in the morning.

It’s a start and it’s kinda nice. I get to take peaceful walks and listen to the songbirds as the sun rises over the whichever building/mountain/tree/leprechaun commune the sun rises over, and I get the flat all to myself when I get back. And today just to really make it homey little Sparky is lying on the chair next to me sleeping soundly.

The little fucker.

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1 Comment

  1. That sounds awful.


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