...and I started feeling a little more cheerful last night. The cheerful mood has continued so far this afternoon, cheerful enough to write up an amusing anecdote for a local column. I've even started cleaning my downstairs bathroom, the one nearest my bedrooms, which has not yet attained that level of filth known in some parts of the country as Mobil Station Restroom Just Off Freeway Exit Filth, and everywhere as Frat House Filth. No, it's not been that bad. But I'd close the door if you came over. Every day for the last month, I've sat down and said, "I've got to clean this hellhole." And then I've done nothing about it. Until this afternoon.
I don't why I'm feeling more cheerful than earlier in the week. I have no job leads. Nothing's really changed.
I don't know how long this cheerful mood will last. But let's just enjoy it while it's here, okay?
17 July 2009
The cheer creeps in on a little cat feet. Or some kind of feet. Who's to say it has to be cat? The cheer creeps in on little Shih Tzu feet...
pet and plant sitting
I'm making a little bit of money pet and plant sitting for three people from church this month. They called me. This gave me the idea to put up a little flyer on the church bulletin board saying that I'm available for this. So I've had a few more calls.
It doesn't pay much, of course. But if I can get some more of this work and some temp work, perhaps it will all add up to be something.
I've had ZERO contacts from my dog-walking and dog-sitting ad on craiglist and the flyer I posted around town.
16 July 2009
And, oh, the poop bags I have used today....
I can't find a marketing communications job, so I've been bartending, working temp shifts in factories that OSHA doesn't seem to visit, and generally doing almost anything to make a buck. Lately, I've had some dog walking gigs. Today I walked two Newfoundlands, 2 Westies, 1 Weimaraner, 2 Viszlas, a pit bull, and a cat. Except for the cat, all were pullers. My arms are still in their sockets, but barely. The Newfies were the toughest. I should have hitched them to a sled--I could be miles away right now, perhaps in a place where there are still marketing communications jobs. At one point, I was walking them around Como Lake, or, as some people call it, Lake Como, and stopped to shake sand out of my shoe. The Newfies decided to head over across the street and investigate a bird on a lamp post in the median. I managed to snatch up my shoe as they dragged me, hopping on one foot, across the street. I forgot all of my dog commands, and found myself yelling "Whoa!" to no avail. I slid to a landing on my kiester and ended up at the base of the lamp post with my legs in the air. It was a beautiful day here in the Land of No Marketing Communications Jobs, 70s and sunny, so half of the people in the Twin Cities were out walking around Como Lake (or Lake Como) and all of them, every single one of them, laughed at me as I sprawled on the median and two Newfoundlands licked my head. On the way home it occurred to me, Jeez, I had the rapt attention of all of those people--I should have passed out business cards.
dream
Last night I woke up to find myself kneeling at the side of my bed with my hands digging into the bedclothes. I think I had just screamed. I got up and turned on the light. The dog was in the hallway by the bedroom door with his ears flattened and his body posture showing fear. Everything on the bedside table nearest the side of the bed I'd been kneeling by was on the floor--my iPod dock, my clock, my Nalgene bottle, CDs, books. When I said "It's okay, everything's okay" to the dog, my throat felt raw and it hurt. I drank from my Nalgene bottle and gave Buddha a drink from the cap. I got a Ricola cough drop. I put everything back on the bedside table. And we went back to bed.
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