AJ taking his time enjoying the new trail.
Charlie does not stop running.
Orso looking for something to chase.
A pretty early morning view.
With my usual grace, I was able to maim myself once again with yet another innocuous object. In this case the skeleton key on my necklace was the weapon of disfigurement. Mitch constantly asks how I am able to cut or bruise myself on something that doesn’t pose any threat to the majority of the human race. I have a gift that’s all. I don’t a pose a threat to anyone else, just myself.
My injury occurred at work on Friday, while trying to be ecologically conscientious. The company I work for recently passed out blue bins to each of us for the express purpose of paper recycling. We are responsible for filling the bins and then carting the bins downstairs to the warehouse and dump the paper in specially marked boxes. I normally try to empty my bin when it’s about half full, because when the bin is full of paper, it is very heavy. Or maybe I’m just a wimp. But in this case I haven’t had a chance to empty it in about a month so it was pretty full and heavy.
I lugged it all the way to the warehouse and when I hoisted it up to dump the paper into the box, the lip of the bin caught the skeleton key whipping it up and smacking me in the middle of my forehead cutting me. I almost made a smart ass remark about workman’s comp when I turned around to see the HR manager waiting patiently for me to finish dumping my bin so she could dump hers that she had pushed in on a cart. Not only am I “graceful” but evidently not very smart either.
It’s just a rainy Saturday, a perfect day to get caught up on cleaning the house, the closet or some other productive household chore. But I’m just not in the mood. This is something I’ll regret tomorrow or the next day, but not today. Today, I just want to relax and do nothing productive. The dogs aren’t even any fun. They’re lying curled up on the bed snoozing, enjoying the rainy day too.
The only one who is getting anything accomplished is Mitch. He is diligently working on the re-construction of the guest bathroom. He’s mudding and sanding and re-mudding and re-sanding the sheetrock seams, giving it his best shot, even though applying mud and sanding is not his forte. Of course this is adding to my guilt level, knowing that I’m being a slug and he’s slaving away.
I feel like painting something, maybe the kitchen. Painting is therapeutic for me. One small problem, I have no paint and haven’t even picked out a color yet. But that doesn’t stop me from thinking about painting the kitchen; it just adds to the mental guilt list of one more thing I could be doing if I had been more proactive in deciding on a color and buying the paint. I could run to Lowes and hurriedly pick out a color and just start painting. Of course we all know how well my painting projects go.
Good thing it’s a small kitchen.
I had no idea that danger was lurking waiting for me this morning as I went through my morning routine. I took the dogs for their early morning walk, where we dodge deer, raccoons and loose gravel (you have no idea how dangerous the lone piece of gravel is until you step on it in the dark). Thankfully, the morning walk was without incident, for a change.
Coming back home, the dogs got their carrots and I jumped into the shower. After my shower, I started putting on my makeup, totally unaware of the danger just waiting for me. I pulled out my makeup drawer reached in and grabbed my moisturizer smeared it on my face, and then went after the eye cream when I felt the ever so slight flutter against my hand. I jerked my hand back just in time to see the rare extremely dangerous weremoth make its escape to the back of the drawer and into the dark recesses of the cabinet. I just narrowly escaped with my life. Not sure what a weremoth is, well they are big, huge, black, white or maybe purple, it doesn’t matter. They strike just when your guard is down and you’re totally relaxed, like putting on your makeup. I knew without a doubt that it would fly out of the drawer and latch onto my neck and suck out all my blood.
Having only just started putting on my makeup I had no choice but to finish as quickly as possible keeping one eye on the mirror and what I was doing and one eye on the drawer hoping the weremoth wouldn’t sneak out and stage a blitz attack on me. Where was Charlie when I needed him? He always loves to eat moths.
I just hope I remember that it’s in there waiting and lurking for the perfect moment to fly out and kill us all in the middle of the night. Maybe Mitch will find it first…