…may get other people down, but personally, when said Monday is either a) the first day of a month of vacation or b) a holiday, or c) both, I love them. Yesterday was both rainy and a Monday, a lamplit day of the sort appropriate for quiet pursuits. It would have been ideal for reading and listening to NPR and napping in the afternoon just because we could.
We both did do some reading – Fuzzy finished book four in a dragon series we’ve both been reading, which books are fabulous in concept, but really poorly edited, which annoys me, though doesn’t seem to phase Fuzz. I’m not talking awkward word choices here and there either, but more basic things like spelling and grammar. These books might have been run through the spell-check in Word, but that’s about it.
I, on the other hand, went to Barnes and Noble the other night and bought NOTHING – because I’m the only person in the world who can walk into a store full of books and leave claiming there’s nothing to read. In truth, there were a couple things I picked up and then put down, because none fit my mood. Upon returning home, however, I found a book I’d purchased a few weeks ago and had started then set aside because some other book claimed my attention. Now, however, it fit my mood, and so I’ve been read it in fits and snatches all weekend, mostly in the bathroom.
Otherwise, I indulged in a personal MONK marathon while doing seemingly endless loads of laundry, and cuddling with the dogs. I still feel really achey from a pulled muscle, and I still feel like I’m behind on sleep. Tonight, I turned the lights out at 11:30 – early for me, especially considering I don’t have to be up at five – and I was blissfully asleep for an hour, until Fuzzy came to bed, which involved the Ritual of Last Call for the dogs, and then the subsequent dominance games they play on our bed. In the process, Zorro decided that going out into the wet to pee was Not Going to Happen, and announced this by leaving a veritable lake on the living room floor. He’s becoming more and more cantankerous now that he’s nine. So one AM found me keeping Cleo away from the puddle, and Fuzzy on his knees cleaning the floor. I love my dogs. But sometimes I wish we’d stuck with fish. Fish are good. They’re quiet, they don’t bring dead things into the living room, you don’t have to walk them, and if you forget to feed them they eat each other. Of course, they’re more like furniture than actual pets, but…
Anyway, here it is 4 AM. I woke convinced I’d heard a noise, except I think I dreamed it, but Fuzzy was up, as well, because he had to use the bathroom, which triggered my need and now I’m awake, and restless, and it’s hot, but then it’s not, and the pillows aren’t cool – even when I flipped mine over so the cool side would be against my cheek, it felt warm – and, and, and…
I’d talked to my mother briefly earlier in the day, because I was concerned since all day Sunday when I tried to call I kept getting messages that I was unable to call that country, even when I tried her toll-free number, so when we finally connected I was half-convinced Hurricane John had rebuilt itself after going over the Gulf of California, which would never have made the local media here because once Cabo San Lucas was determined to be out of danger, the rest of Baja ceased to exist. It turns out that they were fine – had power back but no internet, yet, and that TelMex had blocked the lines to avoid panic calls. Groovous.
I’m not sure what I’m doing today – I have plans that range from “nothing” to “clean the kitchen top to bottom” and “make your office neat, orderly, and work friendly” but whatever I decide, for the moment, I’m going back to sleep, or at least turning off the computer and lying in the dark to listen to the restful breathing of Fuzzy and the dogs.
And to smile softly about a day of rain.