|View from the couch-dent|
When he was done, we both agreed that had been quite a work out. After all I had held the phone up for almost three seconds to get this shot, and I was feeling the burn. We both decided to chill for the rest of the evening, and get to bed early.
And so it was.
Today, the snowpocalypse continues. Well, actually, a significant amount of it has melted, but then a significant amount has frozen over again, which has made the roads devilishly slick and dangerous unless you have four wheel drive which of course, I do. And I would make use of it, yes, I would, if I had to go to work today. I think I would, anyway. Let's say that I would.
But since BelPres has called one more snow day, I am taking this one much more seriously, and accomplishing far more than yesterday. I am making tea, people. I took a new bowl for my cereal this morning, instead of using the one that Rusty licked yesterday, which is almost as clean. I am checking emails and texts and getting back to people in a semi-quasi-timely manner. I clicked "like" on three Facebook posts. I am flop-folding the couch blankie, an improvement from the tangled-up ball in which I left it last night before bed. I have been in street clothes since 5am. With SOCKS. I am fully clothed, people. Ok, there's no bra, but technically you can consider yourself fully clothed if you have at least half of your underwear on. And there are the socks.
I have taken the doggie out not once, not twice, but three separate times, in order to do what comes naturally. I put on a hat. I took it off again. I have put up the footrest so that I can balance this computer more easily on my lap while I nestle into my couch-dent. I am writing sentences with actual VERBS. I am a whirlwind of sedentary theoretical activity. I am the action hero for the motivationally impaired. Someday, when she is much chubbier and slower than she is now, Scarlett Johansson will play me in a movie. Perhaps it will be called "Some Snow: The Reckoning". She will not move around a whole lot, but she will repeatedly gaze intently into space as though thinking something existentially deep. There will be close ups of her blinking slowly. In the final scene, she will quietly disappear under a blanket on someone's couch and the mystery will haunt the viewers: did she die? Was she ever real? Or is she just taking a nap?
Meanwhile, this couch dent is pulling me in deeper, and this blankie is leaning suggestively against my elbow. The dog is asleep, which means he won't need a piddle break for at least another hour. Maybe two. It's been quite a day. After all, you can only accomplish so much.
Don't judge me. Or, if you must, do it quietly. SOME people around here are trying to get some shuteye.