My dog has spring fever. He went outside three times this morning and didn’t do his usual impersonation of a couch fungus. And so he dragged me outside, even though I have a shit-ton of editing to do before tomorrow.
I talked briefly to a woman and her great big puppy in the park. “My dog forced me to go outside,” I told her in a tone that should surprise none of you. “I was like, dog, I have all this work to do and he just wanted to go to the park.”
“I have a lot of work to do as well, but it’s just wrong to be inside on a day like today,” the woman with the puppy said.
You maybe wonder who takes her dog to the park at 2:15 on a Tuesday afternoon. Doesn’t she have a job? Responsibilities? Is she independently wealthy? Does she summer on the Vineyahd, dahlink? Is she a housewife? Is she a student? Is she an editor who hasn’t been outside all day?
You see women like me and think maybe that I spend the day drinking coffee and composing witty (I hope) blog posts. Sometimes I write and gnash my teeth. But more often than not, my hair is a mess and I’m crouched over a study of Microbial Matrices in Middle-Western Snow Monkeys.
What are you bloggers really doing when you’re not online?