I'm In!

Yes, I'm blogging to you from the magnificent living room of my very own apartment. To say this feels strange might give the impression that I'm not giddy with glee. I'm luxuriating in the timeless pleasure of typing my thoughts at whatever pace I choose. No twenty-minute time frame for my break. No hour-long limit at the library. It's glorious.

But I do have an impatient dog here, who believes very strongly that because I've finished eating my supper, it's now time to take her for a walk. I don't understand why she's come to this conclusion. Could it be our mutually agreed-upon pact of several years' duration? Is there no flexibility in our verbal agreement? Doesn't she notice the serene joy emanating from me as I sit and type away at my blog?

She's splayed across her cushion covered by her blanket, looking up at me with an expression that can only be read as coy. Her body language says 'happy to continue splaying.' Her face says 'hey writer - aren't you tired of sitting in front of a computer? I've got a stress-busting walk with your name on it.'

Now she's abandoning that tack for a labored sigh and a put-upon hanging of her head off the cushion. But I know her hunting style, not that she does any of that. But she's adapted centuries of hunting behaviors to her urban lifestyle of play. The more bored she looks while maintaining eye contact, the more she's trying to draw me in. She could spaz out on me at any second, a coiled spring ready to sprint or leap or run circles around me. I won't let her get too worked up or our walk will be like trying to get Jim Carey to keep his interview answers to one syllable.

Now she's circled around behind me, obviously sensing that I'm considering wrapping this up. I guess I'll have to work out a time for my blog that is satisfactory to both of us. Otherwise I may have to go back to the peace and quiet of my work-break blogs.