Extended break - no real reason

Nothing since Wednesday? How unusual for me.

When I read Choke (the movie is coming out in November, 2008. Palahniuk can write.), I liked the main character's friend. I struggle to remember names in audiobooks - I must encode into memory far easier with visual stimuli. He has an addictive personality, this fictional friend, and instead of indulging in sexual pursuits, he begins to collect rocks. He says something about how it's a measure of each day - how he wants to do something good rather than just avoid doing something bad, how he wants to look back and realize the time he spent was spent building something. This blog, of course, is my pile of rocks. Some are little and utterly meaningless. Others are huge and important - when I need to remember how lovely it was to have one of my images put on the cover of a journal, I can find that post. When I think that heartbreak may not have been so bad, I need only to glance at certain weeks of words to recall that it was absolutely crushing. I wrote when Smallest One was born. I typed words and published a post in the mere hours I left Mom at the hospital. So while I don't particularly feel like writing - don't, in all honestly, feel like doing much of anything at all - the overly-long sentences and written-in-circles paragraphs must be recorded. Perhaps I have a bit of an addictive personality myself.

I think I worked from home on Thursday. Took a long nap. Worked more on my talk. Friday found me at the office early for a meeting with Boss. I was disappointed that he hadn't read the paper I'd sent 10 days ago and hounded him politely for the rest of the day. He started to hand me single pages as he worked through them, poor guy. So that draft waits, though I did fill out a lot of the online sections at the submission website. It's going to ImpactFactor14Journal. It's overly ambitious, I know, but I feel compelled to try.

Yesterday I went to Cousin's house. I composed posts in my head while I was there and while I was driving home. Good things happen at Cousin's.

"I feel relaxed here." I told her as we mixed dough and rolled it into balls, transferred cooling cookies to the table from sheets we needed to bake the next batch. "It's like the house of happiness."

She laughed and glanced around.

"Honestly." I insisted. "You have Little Cousin and cookies and cheesy lunches. And puppies!"

"It would be hard to get depressed here." She admitted, glancing around the warm kitchen that was lit against the gloomy day, breathing in the smell of sugar and spice and vanilla and chocolate, and glancing over at the two chubby, baby canines sleeping on a towel in the corner of the kitchen by the dishwasher.

I believe I feel about puppies the way some women feel about babies. I am overwhelmed with love at the sight of a puppy. I found my eyes going to their corner every time I tried to help Cousin with baking. When I was waiting for cookies to bake, I'd find myself lying on my stomach on the floor. I'd admire tiny black noses and rub little bellies that were exposed. I'd coo and cuddle and breathe in the sharp puppy smell that should be unpleasant but isn't. When Yellow peed on the floor, I happily found a towel to mop up the mess, not for a moment thinking it was icky. When Grey finished pooing in the yard as we walked around, I clapped and told her she was such a good girl, then scooped her up - muddy paws and damp fur - and cuddled her into my chest. I kissed their soft coats - Grey has a bit more terrier in her and has a wirey texture. Yellow is pure downy softness. Both still have that puppy fuzziness that I so adore. I giggled when puppy kisses on my chin moved to nibbles on my ears, nuzzling eagerly and offering them kisses in return.

"I love them so much." I sighed to Cousin multiple times - sitting on the floor with Yellow a warm weight in my lap, smiling outside when they would hop/run toward me when I called them, sighing with wonder at how absolutely cute they were as they sprawled in yet another nap.

We went for dinner when it grew dark outside and Cousin and I had enough of baking. On the way home, we drove around to look at Christmas lights. If the puppies had been along to join Little Cousin and I in the back, it would have been perfection. As it was, I missed them terribly, but kissed everyone good-bye to return to my own faithful dog. (I kissed the dogs more than the people. I really do think my brain glitched somewhere and feels for baby dogs what I should feel for baby humans.) As exhausted as I felt - "Happiness wears you out." Cousin noted - I didn't sleep well at all last night. Instead, I returned to work on a tedious task that has consumed several hours for the past few days. I finally emailed results to my collaborator and need to check one more thing before calling it done.

But I spent today sleeping and reading and procrastinating on practicing my talk to dealing with tedious task. I'm nearly done with my fourth book in as many days and I need to pick up clutter and water plants. I just needed to put another rock on my pile before taking care of those things.