Friday, July 31, 2009

Of Insecurities and Schedules

Having started this blog I suddenly find myself anxious. What am I going to write about? I have nothing to say. Nothing of interest, anyway. My life if very simple - simple to the point of boring for most people, I'm sure. I get up in the morning. I feed my ducks and let them outside. I take my rabbits out to their outdoor run, if the weather is nice. I take a shower, get dressed and go to work, most days of the week. I never bother with make-up – as a dog walker my clients don't care if I'm wearing make-up or not, unless, perhaps, it was peanut butter flavored make-up – and I never wear nice clothes – they would only get ruined and start to smell permanently of sweat. Not something I want. Sometimes I drive but most of the time I try to bike – it's only 8 miles, after all. I walk the dogs, one of our normal routes, or somewhere new as we try to find new gardens to explore. I say my mantras, trying to keep positive. I bike home and have lunch, cool off for a bit, and then work in the garden if I can. In the evening I let my rabbits out in the bunny room in shifts: Suki and Jojo for 1 ½ hours, and then TJ or TJ and Suki for another hour and a half. TJ and Jojo get into vicious fights if they are let out together. (I know: Rabbits? Vicious?? But despite their cuteness, they are, in the end, territorial animals.) I bring the ducks in, give them dinner, and put their diapers on. I close up the chicken coop to keep the chickens safe for the night. I do my workout, either in the evening or – if I haven't procrastinated – earlier in the day. At 11pm (again, only if I haven't procrastinated) I brush my teeth, change into pjs, and give the dogs their evening dose of pills. I tell Kita to lay down on his dog bed, which he will humor me and do, but only for ten minutes before he heads over to the other side of the bed and sleeps on the floor. I tell Buddy, for the fifth time, to move from his preferred spot on my pillows to his assigned spot at the end of my bed. I tell Maia to scoot over if she hasn't done so already. I read a little: an educational book if I'm in a good mood, an organizational book if I'm stressed. And then I fall asleep, get my ten hours, and start all over the next day.

So what will I write about? How many weeds I've pulled? Whether or not the chickens managed to stay out of trouble today? How often I've had to chase Buddy away from the back fence where he's been barking like a maniac at the neighbor's black lab?

That I will continue, for the moment, has been decided. The subject, however, remains to be seen, and will depend, I suppose, on whatever events (however minor, of course) happen to transpire on the unfarm.

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