Known to Drag Feet

This is Pokey. You may remember Pokey as Gumby's best friend. You also may remember Pokey if you have ever met me, because, as it turns out, we are the same being. I have many Gumbys in my life, according to this description, and the little, bendy Pokey pictured above was a Christmas gift from Kelsey Roommate after I made her watch a few episodes of Gumby with me on YouTube (all of that emotional investment happened in a matter of minutes, because apparently all Gumby episodes were only five minutes long).

However, I scored a new job a few weeks ago walking two dogs for a lady in the neighborhood, because apparently working at a hardware store isn't the only place that will hire me with a complete lack of qualification. And these dogs? These big dogs called Franklin and Bogey (!!!)? They are muffins. And they make me think that, probably, at some, soonish point in my life, I would like to have an animal to keep this bendy Pokey company. A breathing, eating, bag-on-walks-needing, four-legged animal to be friends with bendy Pokey without eating him.

Esophageal. Only a funny word until you have cancer of it.

I am having quite the time separating dream life from reality life. But not in the way that causes me to spend $50 on a CBS TV show. The kind where I wake up unsure of my surroundings, whether or not I've had important, relationship-defining conversations, what and where my pets are, whether or not I have taken street drugs and what kind of cancer I have. This is a problem that has plagued me for several years now, and I'm thinking it's time for some pro-activity about it.

Perhaps I will try and alter my day-time habits to settle my dream life a bit. Which food is it that makes me dream that I am in Cuba learning how to cook outside in the warm sun? What time should I stop drinking tea and eating cookies? Perhaps I should pick up yoga again?

I can't say for sure that my first Planet Earth experience* last night helped. I watched "Prairies" on the big screen in our building and it was a seriously traumatic, emotional experience. Beauty? Yes! Plants growing before your eyes? Yes! Baby animals? Yes! Animal attacks? Yes! Animal attacks on baby animals? I don't know because I closed my eyes. But judging by the sounds my roommates made, the ominous orchestral music, and the somber tone in David Attenborough's voice, all signs point to dead pika babies.

*That makes it sound like I came to planet earth for the first time last night. And it was a total mind$@*#. Wouldn't it be, though?

Winter affects us all in different ways.

I'm knocking on wood while I'm still at home and there is still real wood in my life when I tell you that I don't have mono yet. Or, at least I don't think so. There were those twelve hours of sleep I slept a few nights ago, and the nap I took earlier that day. But those could totally be written off as non-mono by the following things:

• Being tired
• Winter
• Darkness
• Horizontal surfaces
• Being myself
• Cuddly dog who hates winter also
• Food intake: sleep helps with the digestion
• Absence of friends who teased me with a visit home for "break". Which my brain mistakenly translates as "home permanently".
  

Speaking of that cuddly dog, I found her chewing on a tiny glass shard today. And that's the second time I've found her doing this in a week. There was no evidence of blood or mouth-cutage, but riddle me this: Which is more concerning: Finding glass shards frequently in the house, or that I have a canine who enjoys glass shards as snacks?

IV of the C, please.

• Communal cookie dough bucket
• King-sized memory foam bed (I typed 'phone' at first. Memory phone bed?! COOL!) This leads to each individual having their own, personal "valley" in the mattress which your anxious bed mate will sometimes invade for a laugh at 2 am.
• Communal tooth paste
• Microwave bacon, fingers necessary for preparation.
• "Can I have a drink of your water?"
• "I'm driving, will you please feed the Cinnastix to me?"

What do these things all have in common? Things that shouldn't happen when one of you unknowingly has mono. It will be an epiphany miracle if Sandwich Lady kept her mono to herself during the weekend at this beautiful cabin. Stay tuned!