Wednesday, 7 July 2010
An old button and tiny candy in my wallet; dog asleep
Five am and the doggie is scooped up and taken down to the lawn, me praying nobody else is awake to see me without my bra, in old shorts, uncombed hair, unbrushed teeth and slippers that don't fit (and have been eaten.) No poo? Okay. I don't have time for this... Back up we go..
Five fifteen and the General is done with his bathroom time, bright and awake, looking sharp in his work clothes and freshly shaven head. My poor mismatched pumpkin - his face is still badly swollen from the tooth infection. I grab him and kiss his tummy violently, until he manages to shake me off, plant a kiss on my forhead and run to work. The dawg has stolen my shoe during and took it to the 'den corner'.
I put some food, fresh water in the bowls and wipe the kennel so it's not a pond of pee. This dog pees for every thirty paces. While she eats, I get my bathroom time to get myself half way to presentable.
Five thirty and we're officially doggy walking. The long main street is morning-cool, empty and asleep. Not even the light is propper yet. It's chilly, refreshingly. The newspaper delivery people, the bakery, the deiry, the restaurants delivery trucks are scarce and I decide not to have her on a leash for a change. Her neck is already like that of a Namibian princess from how she pulls me. Off leash she walks nearly perfectly aligned to my step.
We walk for an hour, almost entirely off leash, but by six:thirty streets are already stirring. It's been refreshing, although it feels like it hasn't happened at all, like I just woke up. We get home, I change my shoes and put her on her cushion; she falls asleep. Lucky sod.
Having stopped making my ice coffees (since the time one got me sick, probably from an OD), I am now filling my thermos bottles with icy lemonade + caramel extract (tastes like vanilla, actually, the final product.) Borrowing the money from work cash register, I buy myself a hot dog and a bagel for later and then hurry to work.
Upon my arrival, the office is dead quiet, stuffy and dim. Alarms first, even before I put my bag down. Then lights, windows and blinds. I sweep the doorstep just a little, water one plant that's fickle and pick up the newspaper samples that have been delivered directly over night. These are the most basic, rutinous, solitary tasks- setting the daily papers on the conference table, turning on the computer and cash register, getting the press seals, checking the messages left just for me..
After that, after I eat and check what's up with the world, before everyone else starts coming, employees and customers, that's my morning. The rest is (at least sometime up until seven or eight pm) everybody else's day.