Still here. Still broken. But the days keep flipping by.
Max, following the sun.
Today’s my last “Summer Friday” from TNP for the year. I love summer so much and it feels like this year it slipped out from under me. I have to blog the Virginia Beach trip. That’ll be a temporary fix.
I had a massage at Hand and Stone today courtesy of my nephew. He’s a savvy baby that way. Then I bought some futility cream at Ulta and an iced chai from Starbucks. Now we are out on the balcony (trying to ignore the cigarette smoke from one balcony down — I am finally wearying of apartment living) but it’s a smaller “we” than I’m used to. Just the dogs and me. We’ll get by.
The vet called this afternoon. I knew what the message was about so I let it go to voicemail. I’ll deal with pickup another day. As much as I joked about Charlie being the Last Cat, there are probably kittens in our future. We have to get our own place first, though. This is the first time I’ve been in compliance with the pet rule since I moved to the Dee-Luxe apartment in the sky. Yes, friends, Charlie was an undocumented cat. Technically, Ollie should have been the secret pet but you just can’t hide Ollie.
On a lighter note, I believe I one of those people with the Margaritaville gene. It’s not officially been mapped yet, but it’s the gene that makes you inexplicably enjoy Jimmy Buffet after you hit 40. I can’t explain it! He used to depress me to death. Now there are fins to the left, fins to the right and ARRGH I can’t help it! I blame the SiriusXM trial that came with the new Jeep. I found Radio Margaritaville. Now it’s one of my presets in the car (along with WM’s 19 country music channels) and I also stream Buffet-like music channels at home. And thus begins the midlife crisis. At least I’m not gambling or playing bingo.
Have a lovely Labor Day weekend!