. . . where i am . . . where am i . . .

I don’t really understand what part of me is operating my life right now. Though I’ve almost zero interest in “the future” and almost as little in “the present” – for some reason I have quit smoking and started going to the gym all the time. I went today. What is unusual about that is that I am house-sitting a half an hour and a huge amount of gas (I have a ridiculously gas-guzzling suv) away from the gym and I thought I might not go this week; but there I was, going, and working out for 90 minutes.

Why? I don’t see any real reason to get gymmed-up. For what? And while I am exhausted on an existential level, today I am additionally exhausted on a physical level as last night was the first here at my house-sitting gig and my new pals, Judah and Sophie and I, had to find our way to a comfortable sleeping arrangement. And then there was Rudy. Rudy the vomiting beagle. Rudy the “I want to pull you into the woods with me so I can chase the scent of a rabbit” two hundred pound, vomiting beagle. Rudy the “I think I will fight with Judah and clasp my nasty beagle jaws around his neck and try to kill him” beagle.

Judah, Sophie and I are trying to be patient with Rudy and teach by example how to be loving and how not to vomit. We are making some headway today. After I got back from the gym, all three of them sat with me on the couch. Judah is sleeping nearby.


He didn’t get much rest last night either, although, in fairness, he pushed me out of the bed onto the floor, not the other way around.

Still, I’d rather sleep with these canine dogs than any of the human dogs who of late have approached me and so – there it is. Who am I? What part of me is forcing me to be smoke-free and diet and go to gym? Because, honestly, I really don’t give a flying fuck. Come on April 15.

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