It's Monday.

I have these weird days when I just want to experience everything, and sometimes it's hard not to let sadness creep in.  Why?  I think it's because it's easy to get overwhelmed when your to-do list outgrows the days of experience you've had.  I know that one step, one day, one beginning at a time is all you can do.  I'm working on being okay with that.  I'm pretty freaking happy with my life, even though I may express too much at times.  I want to live and breathe everything that I love each moment of the day.  I want to feel the wind in my hair more often and laugh with friends over coffee instead of beers all of the time.  The universe is shifting.  I can feel it.  It's time to go rake the yard.  Happy Monday to the world.  And Boo, don't worry.  You'll see Prince one way or another.  I promise.

My dog sucks at most things.  He learns slow, eats slow, is too needy, and quite frankly is often off-putting to guests.  He's always wanted to just fit in with the pack.  He wants his parents to love him ALL THE TIME.  We have to understand that he's simple and just wants lots and lots of love.  From you.  Now.  I see him for who he is, and I do love him, probably more than we both know.  

I've been observing him for a while, and he has great posture.  The best doggy posture I've seen, and I've been around the dog park if you know what I mean.  I mean, I've seen a lot of dogs is all.  Anyway, I didn't start this to tell you about how great his posture is or that he sucks at everything.  He has one special talent that I haven't seen in any other dog yet.  He can do it as many as ten times a day.  (I've counted.)  Besides sleeping sitting upright in his excellent posture, he is a fan of standing propped up with his paws on the window sill.  It's commonplace to see him in this pose now so I'm not impressed with this.  What impresses me is the phhhtt's and thhhfffttt's and squeaks that come out of his rear when he does this.  My dog doesn't just smell.  He farts, and he farts really well.

I've been there.

I can hear you.  Somewhere.  You feel like I do.  Like there are too many things made dramatic and not enough friendly moments shared.  You remember what it felt like to care, and you know you're lying to yourself when you say you don't.  

There's a moment in each of us where we exist here.  We want our friends to call.  We want to be more outgoing.  We want to live up to the ideal of ourselves or at least feel as good as we used to.  Isn't that what a new year is for?  We always say each day is a new day, but surely a new year has to be for real.  Right?  All the Sex in the City's and fake columnist spiffs in the world can't create for us what really happens in our minds.  I'm no authority, just another person analyzing everything that's in your head.

Dun dun dunnnnn.  You were thinking it, no?