I'm supposed to be writing my article on this pewter designer, and sleeping (three interviews tomorrow, back to back) so instead I watched Some Kind of Wonderful.
You look great wearing my future.
Even to myself, I don't make sense.
But then, I have writer's block. It is an affectation I have been told, but when I care what the people I am writing about think of the article, the inner editor comes into play and ties my hands. Every word I write, delete, delete, delete. Every intro I come up with, stupid. Oh my God, so dumb. So I run into corners, hide, do anything, ANYTHING, but what I'm supposed to.
And next week, well next week looks pretty. Anyone got some meth? I think I need chemical reinforcements if I'm going to see it through. Well, actually, I'll settle for coffee. Strong coffee.
I went to see Black Arnold today and while his wound was wet and weeping, he seemed a whole lot better. So much so that when I took out my ziploc bag and poured the dog biscuits into his bowl he stood up and proceeded to wolf it down. Then he tried to escape. The string tied around his door should have tipped me off. I held him while I stroked and talked to him and could feel the pent up strength in his body, just willing to bolt. I wonder if I can take him for walks now. Just to work out some of that energy. But as I said, the wound still looks ugly.
I stopped another vet who was on his way out and asked him about it. He said maggot wounds tend to take a long time to heal. And they stay wet for a long long time. The good thing was that I got one of the helper guys there to wash his cone. It had become truly disgusting. Then we reattached said cone. The guy asked...does this dog bite? I said, no, not at all.
And yeah, even with all this pent up energy, he was gentle. Another lady came by and talked to me. She had rescued a stray with a maggot wound as well and had come to see him. The stray, who was in another room was howling the place down.
Nobody likes being cooped up I guess.
The good thing is that Arnold is recovering.
Now if only I knew what to do.
If only I knew what to write.
HELP!
1 comment:
Hahaha, you haven't changed a jot in either respect... the procrastination about work (which I always found confounding since I am so different), or the compassion for poor homeless doggies (which drew me to you back then). I think I've probably changed more than you.
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