Enough is Enough

The dog love and accompanying laziness have gone too far.  Since my surgery last week. I've spent way too much time suggled up with my new pooch on the sofa.  Thanks to the evil Xfinity On-Demand, I've watched all the archives of Restaurant Impossible, Wife Swap, Chopped, Kitchen Nightmares, Hot in Cleveland and Smash.  Ugh.  I feel like Enzo in The Art of Racing in the Rain, when Denny leaves him home, cooped up in the house all day, watching whatever happens to be on the TV.  Only Enzo has no choice.

Last night, I decided to go to bed at a reasonable hour.  Instead of putting Lucy in her crate in the kitchen, I took her upstairs to sleep in my bed.  Needless to say, I didn't get the best night's sleep.  Besides flailing around with my cast and trying to stay cool in the unseasonably muggy weather, I had the 30 pound bundle of love scooching up under me, snoring, and putting off more heat and humidity.  I had to get up at 5:15 to feed her and let her out.  It was still dark.

When I wake up really early, I usually remember my dreams.  And last night, I had a doozy.  Here goes:  FF was my date for a wedding.  Only, he has an aversion to weddings.  So he decided to go incognito.  As a pig.  Slathered in barbeque sauce.  He drove around in a little golf cart and all the little kids swarmed around to pet him.  Every once in a while, he'd give me a little wink.  I have to admit, I've had worse dates.  Somehow, I wound up in the church sanctuary with all the families of the brides and grooms.  It was a mass wedding, like the Moonies used to do.  I was embarrassed to leave, so I wound up listening to some sort of inspirational sermon on the joys of wedded bliss.  When it finally ended, my perseverence was rewarded with a very nice commemorative quilt - a wedding favor for me and all of my lucky pew-mates.  I hit the reception hall, but the party was winding down and Corky was no where to be found.  It figured.

I'm not even going to attempt to interpret this dream.  It's too scary.  And depressing.  But I'm going to remember it, as fuel for my newfound resolve.

It's back to the real world for me today.  The dog's going back to her crate tonight.  No more lounging around.  I'm going to hunker down and tackle all my office work.  Tax returns, accounting stuff, and assorted other unpleasant tasks.  Actually, they're not so bad when I finally settle down and get started.

After I get my work done, I'm going to get some exercise, eat a salad, drink lots of water, and change my sheets, which smell like sweat and dogs.  If there's time left over, maybe I'll blog about my progress instead of vegetating on the sofa like the lazy hound I've become...