borrow a dog

02-28-00

Doesn't it suck when you decide to get a new job and all of a sudden the old job isn't so bad anymore? The dogs and the cleaning were driving me insane today, but I worked fast and got out of there around 10:30. On my way out, Aida told me to take Wednesday off as well as Tuesday, since all the dogs are going home. Maybe my raise will go through soon. Then I'll feel really guilty, because I'm still looking for a new job. In fact, I'll probably use that extra day off she gave me to hunt for a new gig. What kind of a bitch am I?

I got the call from the financial company today. Naturally, as soon as I decided I didn't want the job, I got it. I politely told the woman that I'd be sticking to my old job for a while, but thanks for the offer. It's a new experience for me, turning something down. Felt good.

The other day I walked out of my apartment and saw a puppy on the step whom I distinctly remembered from the vet. The woman across the way from me adopted a black lab puppy from the shelter. She still smelled like the flea shampoo from when I'd bathed her two days earlier. It's funny, seeing dogs I recognize out on the street. It's happened a few times now.

It's also funny: our apartment complex has a 20 pound limit for pets, and that dog's going to be well over that weight when she grows up. I'll never tell. I have two unreported cats, one of whom probably weighs nigh on twenty pounds. That pet deposit is hefty! $250 for each pet, and it's nonrefundable. If John and I moved to a different apartment in the same complex (which I want to do—more on that later) we'd have to pay the $500 again. If we'd paid it the first time. Ssshhh.

Today I was lying around the house when I heard the puppy squealing outside my door. I figured his owner was walking him, so I ignored it for a few minutes. Eventually I checked on her, because the dog didn't shut up like it would have if someone were paying attention to it. I opened the door and saw the little dog trying to scale the steps to the second floor apartments. No owner in sight. Hmmm. I hoisted her up and scratched her head while I walked around the building to see if her owner was on the patio—nope, but the sliding door was open. Knocked on the door a few times, but nobody was home. Apparently, the dog's owner left the sliding door open, hoping the dog would go out there to poop. Instead, the dog went out and jumped the three feet to the ground, and ran around the parking lot until I picked her up. I pushed her through the patio bars a few times, but each time she jumped back out and followed me home.

So I got my cordless phone and a book and parked myself on my own patio until the dog's owner came home. Becky came over to play with the dog for a few minutes. How nice it is to borrow a dog for an afternoon, and give it back when you're tired of it!

Did I mention that I want to move? I went to do laundry a few nights ago and there were some annoying teenagers in the laundry facility, so while my clothes tumbled away in the dryer I went for a walk. I discovered that three or four buildings in our complex are on the edge of the lake. I thought it was only the cheap complex next door that had lakeviews. John and I just signed a 12 month lease, but I'll bet they'd let us switch to a lakeview if we asked nicely.

I've always wanted to live on a lake. If I ever bought a house or a condo, I'd want it to be on a lake. I need to be near water. I was delighted to find lakefront apartments in my very own complex, and probably for close to the same rent I pay now. John was not so happy. Although he'd like to live by water, too, he doesn't want to move. We've moved way too many times already. But...but...if we wait, we'll just move next February.... If we move now we won't have to move next year.... I'll bet John thinks this subject is closed. Just wait.

I am so geeked to play with the university band. I am so pumped to go on tour with them. This has totally kicked me back into practice mode. I was so depressed about my horn before, and now I have something to play for. ("I wanna live again!") About a month ago John and I went to a small gathering of his coworkers and one of them asked me if I "miss playing." As if I gave it up when I got married. The way she said it, I knew she didn't mean anything rude, but it came out sort of strange. Like she was thinking, "Oh, I could never give it up, but she must have had no problem...." I was super-sensitive about it, because it seemed like the climax of all the pressure I'd felt recently that maybe I should give up playing. Maybe after this trip is over I'll feel that way again, who knows. But right now it's the greatest feeling to be nearing the top of my game again.

Okay, so I'm still a ways from the tippy top. Aren't we all?

So, in the next few days, I have a few errands to run, and I need to look for a job, but I mostly intend to sit on my balcony and read. I'm catching up on a pile of books that's been building since Christmas. Tonight I'll finish Memory Slips, a memoir by concert pianist Linda Katherine Cutting. Tomorrow I'll begin acquainting myself with the Carbohydrate Addicts Diet, just so I can discuss it with people. I'm addicted to carbohydrates, and it pretty much doesn't bother me. Tough for a lapsed-but-reverting vegetarian NOT to be addicted to carbs.

Every night I read a smidge from The Outlaw Bible of American Poetry, ed. Alan Kaufman, which was a Christmas gift from my brother. There are a couple of novels around here that I've been meaning to get to, and some writing and teaching methods that I should have read by now. I'm not saying I'll read all these things in the next 57 hours, but I'm going to make a dent. Dammit. No more Tetris. No more Tetris.

Tonight I'm listening to the soundtrack from Out of Sight, I'm catching up on journals, and I'll crawl in bed soon with my cats and stay there indefinitely. That's it.