Staycation extravaganza

As the sun sets on day 2 of my 5 day, long awaited, staycation (for those of us utterly unable to afford a real vacation, unless it's a destination that can be arrived at without the use of gas) I'm feeling the need to pause and reflect on the lessons I've learned over this extended period of not working. Let me just say that it has been so far, not at all what I expected.

I've learned that I am capable of spending vast amounts of time sleeping. My day starts at 9:00 a.m. when I arise and take a moment to consider what I am grateful for. This morning, I am grateful that I slept through Rhianna and her "um-ber-ella..ella...ella on the Today show. I would honestly rather chew tin foil while getting a pap smear than listen to her sing anything.

I let the dogs out again. This may be key to my sleeping habits. The dogs go out at 10:00p.m., 2:00 a.m., and 6:00 a.m. These dogs eliminate with astounding frequency. I sit with some caffeine and consider what gross shit I'm going to tackle today. My plan has been to address at least one household area of gross shit per morning. Feeling particularly energized this morning, I cleaned the animal snot off the windows and detached the old recycle bin from the kitchen floor which was being held in place by some form of crud that I felt would be best not to look directly at. I washed the blanket that covers my couch with the large hole in the far cushion. My karma holds firm......my house, like the elephant graveyard, is where all second-hand couches go to die.

By now, it's 11:00 a.m. and time to go back to sleep until 1:00 or 2:00 p.m. Sad but true people. I figure that after cat snot rockets and cement-like debris of unknown origin I'm fucking entitled. My sleep is deep and glorious. the dogs wake me because by now we are nibbling around the edges of feeding time. It is a time of great anticipation and activity in my house because all of my animals are half starved to death. Lurking under those shiny coats and sub cutaneous fat layers, lie nothing but bones. Despite my efforts to explain to them that bones don't count unless they are visible to the naked eye, they still jump me like they've been adrift at sea for the last 3 weeks.

We have now arrived at mid afternoon. The whole house is in a state of collective food induced coma except for me who's ready for a little creative time. I sit down to the easel to experiment with a few canvas prepping techniques that will hopefully help my brush ease over the surface without feeling like I'm painting with extra strength poly grip denture adhesive. Having arrived at a good place, I put my brushes down. Time for evening relaxation.

Over these last, blissful 48 hours, I have learned that I could easily adjust to life of vast independent wealth that involves not working. I've learned that if I do my Friday vacuuming on Thursday, the dogs get confused. I've learned that there are waaaay too many areas of gross shit in my house. I've learned that I , in fact, do not own a pair of platex living gloves, I've learned that it is wise to pick up the poop before weed whacking.

Time to rest up for bed time

Shall I watch the documentary on the Impressionists tonight, or the movie with the flesh eating zombies.

decisions, decisions

either way I'm gonna need popcorn