I have gotten to the point in my life where finding no one in the basement laundry room (shared, condo situation) gives me great pleasure. It doesn’t mean much today though because I will have to use the 3 washing machines to do 5 loads of laundry. That’s right, a sick dog means washing sheets, the duvet and I am going to throw in a couple sheepskin rugs for good measure. Can you put sheepskin rugs in a washer? We shall find out.
My ex hasn’t given me his key to the apartment yet, but technically he moves out in a week. That means I keep my liquor cabinet inconveniently locked. I have a tendency to misplace things, so I guess that drink will have to wait.
I have spent a ridiculous amount of money on self indulging for two weeks (I do not think I have had a homemade meal the entire time) as a coping mechanism and now I am a wee bit out of money. So I guess I am staying in on this Sunday morning.
Not having to take care of a living being with the exception of a sometimes-sick but otherwise self-sufficient doggy means I can be a bum, let myself go, let the house go a little and social services won’t get called.
PS: I accept maid services in exchange for graphic design.