Okay, so I post about my dogs. Alot. More than alot. Most of the time. This has me worried. Am I new and not-so-improved version of the Crazy Cat Lady? Will I find myself in 20 years with the Police and the Humane society at my door confiscating my dogs because there are over 20 of them? Will neighbors call in and complain about the smell forcing the cops to come and break down the door, where they will find 20 dogs all living in squalor and me, rocking in the chair next to a long dead fire, mumbling to myself about the good old days, which frankly, aren’t that good? Will checkout girls give me a sad knowing look as I stock up with tins upon tins of dog food?
Is this where it’s going? Is this what it’s coming to? Thinking back over the last few weeks and about my life and wondering how often I go out and what I go out for, here are my findings:
I went to the post office because my online shopping purchase was in
I went to the gas station so I could get to work
I went to work
I went to my sister’s to scrapbook
I was going to go to a party with Donna, but I didn’t want to go so when Donna cancelled I was pleased as punch
I used the phrase ‘pleased as punch’ (so I didn’t go out for that one, but it’s scary none the less)
I went out for coffee cream (because life is not worth living if there’s not a cup of coffee to look forward to)
I went to doggy day care
It’s looking quite dire. Maybe I already am the crazy cat lady. I know my neighbors must think I’m loony since all they know of me is that I am quite frequently yelling out the patio door at Rocky: ‘SHAME ON ROCKY, SHAME! NO BARKING, DO YOU HEAR ME?? NO BARKING!’ and I’m usually in my pj’s as I do this, hair all over the place. That and they’ve prolly seen me dancing in my kitchen. Little do they know, I’m dancing only to the music in my head. And I’ve recently taken up knitting. It’s not looking to good. In fact, it’s pretty ominous.
But I don’t want to go back to my bar days for a number of reasons:
1. It’s freakishly expensive to go out to bars. That being said, I am a pretty cheap drunk
2. At 30yrs old, I may be pushing Cougar Territory
3. It’s no longer fun to have your ears ring for days due to the music
4. I don’t bounce back from the drink like I used to. Time was, I could keep up with most of the people around me and still get up the next day and mow the lawn, but the last time I had the girls over for drinks, I’m pretty sure I took a nap in my bathroom for an hour. Or so Heidi tells me, quite frankly, it’s a blur.
So what’s a girl to do to get out? I’ve tried the sporty route, but my acrylic nails keep getting in the way (and I’m NOT getting rid of them!). I’m geeky, but not geeky enough to join a geek group. Book clubs don’t interest me because they only want to read thinky-thinky books, which is fine, but really, I have to use my noodle alot at work and so it pretty much boycotts thinking on my down time.
So unless you’ve got some killer suggestions, it looks like I may be destined to become your neighboorhood ‘cat’ lady, only with dogs. Don’t call the cops. If you’re truly worried, drop off a pound of Starbucks coffee and a half litre of cream. I’ll be fine!