Here's the thing: I've taken Arnold for two walks today. He's now lying on the floor next to me, tongue hanging out, looking fairly content. I realise with this one I cannot skate by. I have to figure out what he needs, what makes him happy, and go along, even if I have other things to do.
Also, I've nearly finished my story.
Constipated through it the whole day.
When I don't feel like writing, I don't feel like writing.
Num saying?
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I'm done, I'm done, I'm done. I'm wonderful. I'm done.
Now I can bathe Arnold tomorrow and go to Rainforest to see Mark play with a clear conscience.
I'm done!
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