Do not like cat vet anymore. Thinking of switching cat to same vet as dog’s. It’s closer, at least, so she won’t have to bitch and moan for very long in her carrier.

You can spend a lot of time on errands. A lot. And if you don’t think hell is other people, I challenge you to try to run a list of errands in cross-town Chicago on a sunny May day. Chall-onge!

I miss my husband. Apparently this is both “sweet” (said Mary Anne, friend) and “strange” (not the exact thing my hairstylist, Stevie, said, but that’s what she was trying to say). I can’t help it. I like him here. With me. When I’m gone, I miss him, but it’s easier. It’s easier when you’re the one having fun on a trip, OK? It’s more difficult when you’re the one sitting on the couch by yourself while the dog is trying to get your attention.

Today I fetched friend-dog CHLOE! from down the street to create a dog play park situation in my very own backyard. Not quite the same thing, but they had fun. Went to Oak Park to write with Mary Anne, got some done. I forgot my headphones, and this ended up being a problem when a reporter and her source started conducting an interview at full volume in the corner. Mary Anne can apparently write through stories of post traumatic stress disorder, but I cannot.

Came home and did more dog stuff. Ball! Food! Walk! More ball! Put peanut butter into the Kong and then ducked out again to have dinner with my neighbor friend (and mom of CHLOE!, as well as two human children).

Much fun was had by everyone involved, until I had to spend a couple of hours doing work. Work-work. Work that is supposed to confine itself to certain hours of the day, certain days of the week. I need to chase that work back into those hours and days, and lock it up there. I’m good at my job and it’s work that I enjoy, but I don’t want it on my Sunday.

By next Sunday, I will be having tea on the backporch with my husband. I’ll look forward to that.

By Published On: May 17, 2010Categories: Life, Ursa, Writing