Here is what Edsel has done every morning of his damn life: He bounds out of bed, tears down the hall, and bursts out the back door. I open the big back door quickly and he uses his head to push the screen open. He hasn't got time to wait for me to open the screen. There's no time for those shenanigans. For Edsel is a Professional, Advanced-Degreed Barker, and barking must commence within 47 seconds of him being awake.
His initial order of business is that he must bark at the sky. It needs barking at.
Anyway, this morning, for the first time in his life, I had the extra bolt on the back door, AND the hook lock on the screen door, in case Sean I Guess returned to finish the job. Nothing deters a crazed murderer than a hook lock on a screen.
First, Edsel rammed his head into the back door. "Hang on, Edsel," I said, unbolting the big door. Marvin put that bolt on there the day we moved in. Do you recall how everywhere we ever moved, he'd spend all his time doing things like adding flood lights to the back yard and knives to pop out of the windows and so on, so that the hundreds of people dying to do us harm could not do so? I always thought it was a clever way to make me, for example, unpack all the pans myself.
Anyway, suddenly I'm grateful to paranoid Marvin. If any of our 50 floodlights come on due to motion in the side or back yard, Ima die of fear. Anyway, Edsel. So, he rammed his head into the back door while I unbolted it.
Then he rammed his head into the locked screen. Look, I never said he was an intellectual.
I don't even know what he did, there, at the screen part, but somehow he hurt himself. "Arr arr arr arr!" he cried, all high-pitched.
Oh my god, I felt terrible. I looked at his long snouty, and his pawses, and there was no visible damage. He was champing at the BIT to get outside. But once we went out and barked at the sky and peed, I held my arms out. "Come back, Edsel." He did, and I still didn't find anything that he hurt. But his high-pitched girly cries were so terrible.
And right then I knew. I still love stupid Edsel. Even though I may not ever FORGIVE him for eating my puppy, who I miss ALL THE TIME, I do still love this ridik dog.
The whole time I've been writing you, Steely Dan has been running around this desk, wreaking havoc. I don't even know how he got UP here. Do you enjoy my mousepad, which is a folder from my gym? Because gym rat. I note SDan is eating my Fitbit.
Kittens are a delight.
Also, in other news, incidentally, I went to the doctor yesterday about my incessant coughing that's been going on for four weeks, and it turns out I have allergies and GERD. I already knew I had GERD, but it's exacerbating my allergies.
I really wanted some rare, tropical coughing disease that they wouldn't be able to figure out how I had it. I wanted them to scream "MEDIC," even though I was already being seen by a medic, and then I wanted to be whipped off to a specialty hospital in France, but instead they said, "Take Allegra. Take Prilosec." And then I went back to work.
I was at least convinced, at this point, that I had pneumonia or something. I mean, I'm coughing like I'm Hillary Clinton, over here. I'm being helped to the car and I'm all wobbly. But no. Allergies. GERD.
Also, who put the molybdenum in my hair when I got on that scale? Holy cats.
Speaking of my calorie intake, WHICH IS SO MINIMAL OH MY GOD, I just put bread in the broiler, forgetting I have a toaster. I'm taking my Hello Kitty coffeemaker to work today. Yay!
I'd better go. I have a lot of work at work today, and I'll be back in my hiding space again all day. I take a beanbag chair from the fitness room, and go off in this little corner where no one can see me but the sun is shining in, and I get, like, 8 hours worth of work done in three, because no one's all, "How are YOU? How's THINGS?"
The thing is, you never have to ask me that because this. Blog. Here. Whole life. Splayed out for you. No need to talk to me, ever.
I guess people want to have converSAtions. Pfft.
P.S. Ned and I broke up a year ago today. We're going to have dinner to celebrate. Sanely, June.