Here is where I am.
I am in bed. The laptop is propped on my bent knees, and I'm all hunkered down into many pillows. Digit is draped over my left arm and up onto my chest, and I have to look over him to type. Now he's washing his paw with cat-food breath only a mother could love.
Harriet is on my right, staring out the window at Harriet-TV. It's raining — I can tell by the sound and by the way I can just see the rain misting in front of the eucalyptus trees. Harriet can't see that, but she knows that the window is her favorite thing to watch, even if the picture is fuzzy nowadays. Miss Idaho is sandwiched between me and Harriet, as chihuahuas often are, and Clara is snoring on the floor beside the bed.
I'm going to stay right here as long as I can. I have a day off, with nothing planned. And I'm feeling just the right kind of under-the-weather: I don't feel well, but I'm not miserable. I think a day of doing nothing but reading and blog-surfing will be the ticket to health. I'm fighting the predictable sense of guilt: I could be writing! I could be cleaning! Shopping for cat food and litter! Getting the tires rotated, the oil changed!
But right now, I'm not. Lala said as she left for work that lying around all day was a spectacularly awesome thing to do. Turns out she is right.
That cat is clearly getting Bounced. Digit used to love that, so much that when I folded my own sheets I'd catch him up in them and swing him around. He'd purr so loudly that I could feel the sheets shaking.
Books on Kindle, animals, and rain. Tylenol and napping. It will be good.
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