divine angst

Because I’m working from home today, I’m getting a really good sense of how Himself likes to spend his time during the day.

He sleeps.

I figured he would sleep when we weren’t here. That goes almost without saying. The fact that he sleeps when he’s not alone, though, is sort of remarkable. He is not supposed to be a sleeping dog. That is not typical of his breed at all. We even opened the blinds so he could sit on the back of the chair and watch stuff today, since I am on the computer doing my work. And he is, indeed, sitting on the back of the chair. But he’s not watching the passersby. He’s got his head tucked down and he’s sleeping. I’d imagine if I took him outside, he’d be all energy, pulling on his leash as usual. I guess it’s just being inside that puts him to sleep. It’s like warm milk or a turkey dinner–totally crash inducing.

It looks like I’ll be spending the next four or five days making happy with my Bluebook. End-of-summer assignments are coming due, drafts are being finalized, and, hey, I wasn’t planning on going anywhere this weekend.

So I apolgize in advance for any gobbledy-gook I might start spewing. At the very least, I’ll try to avoid using the sanctioned abbreviations in my posts.