(no subject)
This dog is going to DIE.
7:44.
7:44 AM guess who’s at the foot of the Uberbed looking ridiculously cute and barking like Timmy’s in a well?
Jeffrey is not a morning person. It takes an act of Congress to get this body out of bed and moving in the morning and this morning, I’ve got a tiny, hairy little needy beast literally shouting at me that she has to pee and what the hell am I doing wasting the best hours of the day?
When I finally decide to start the day, I take my morning dollies. These include my Cymbalta for depression, my hydrochlorothiazide for hypertension, my happy pill for general pleasantness and sometimes a Tylenol or two just to make sure my feet, calves and hips don’t slap me around for the first couple hours I’m up and about. Weighing nearly 14,000 pounds creates a great deal of stress on one’s lower extremities and I find a little pain relief makes the day vastly more enjoyable. At least until I can drop 12,000 or so pounds…
So I sit up in the Uberbed and attempt to engage the Bunny in a rational conversation about why waiting to go out is a much better idea, but just like a Congressional Republican, it was going to be her way or no way at all.
I toss back the morning pills sitting on the nightstand, and somehow, with the Bunny running frenetically between me and the front door to the Palatial Estate, get my underpants, my shorts and my t-shirt pulled on along with my sandals, stuff a plastic poop bag into my pocket, attach the collar that she hates more than childhood hunger, and head out into the day.
No squirrel was safe. Anywhere. After we’d emptied our various bladders and rectums, anything with a fluffy tail and come-hither whiskers provoked us into near frenzy. I don’t think squirrels have any idea how fortunate they are that modern canines evolved without the capacity to scale bark. Could she, Bunny would grab every small animal in New York City, viciously shake it once or twice, then toss it aside as she went galloping after the next. Not even chicken excites her as much as rodentry. She becomes a being possessed. It’s simply my job to hang on to her cuz Margaret forbid one of the little scamps goes retreating into traffic. That would be the end of Bunny right there. While she’s very smart about some things, traffic is not one of them.
Fortunately, nothing died-including yours truly-and we made it back to the Palatial Estate where I dished out some of her favorite breakfast and made myself a pot of coffee and quietly sat awaiting the pills to kick in. This happened some time ago, but the eight or so feet from the BRC to the typing table is quite the hike when you’re enjoying a morning breeze and Soundscapes on the television.
Noomie’s girlfriend just emerged from her room to pee. Last night, she entertained a gentleman caller who is not Noomie and who appears to still be enjoying her company this morning. I’m somewhat put off by that fact but what’s a gay to do? They’re quiet, they leave me alone and while I’ll bitch and piss and moan about the onerous responsibilities associated with Bunny, the not-so-secret fact is that I quite like the responsibility and am grateful that we’ve got each other right now. Without me, she’d languish alone to the point of abuse, and without her, I might never get out of bed, 7:44 or otherwise.
Noomie is supposed to hand me the lion’s share of July’s rent today, which I hope happens as I’d like to get that in the bank before heading tomorrow to Ohio. I don’t really need it, per se, but if it’s taken him this long to get July paid, I can’t imagine how long I’ll wait for August. And I don’t want to leave NYC with open issues of who owes whom money.
I’ve got to grab a shower here pretty soon and head out to get my prescriptions filled. You’ll be happy to know that Dr. Bobby completely agreed with my self-assessment regarding blood pressure meds and has rolled me back formally and officially to just the hydrochlorothiazide. My BP in the office yesterday was slightly below normal which is saying something for a man who weighs nearly 16,000 pounds. I managed to forget to ask him for more Cymbalta so they’re calling in a script this morning that I’ll pick up when I get my other stuff later today.
Then I’m home to pack and spend some time with Bunny before I leave for five days, hoping that someone takes care of her while I’m gone. I’m sure they will. If not, though, I’m bringing her with me to Ohio.
Happy Friday!