Argh. Life is frustrating right now. In sooo many ways. I see some people I know that seem to be doing well on social media and I wonder, maybe it's me.
I'm going to share, because that helps me. You don't have to read.
I love this little dog, but I am not sure it is reciprocated. Seriously Rusty is very stand-offish, except when he wants to play ball. Even then, he stands in the hall like a goalie and waits for you to throw him the ball. Be it me or Ed, he doesn't care. He sleeps in his crate. If we open it, about 3 hours into the night he goes into the front room and sleeps alone. I mean we used to have to fight to get Hastings, Ashford and Trevor off the bed. Rusty doesn't even want to be in the same room as us! He has regressed to pooping in the house, no matter how long are walks are. And our walks are simply becoming chances for him to find other dogs' crap and eat it. Literally.
I know that much of this is his liver problem, the fact we can't give him too much protein. But a little feedback that he likes us would go a long way.
New York is cold. Right now, and every morning between 6 and 7 when I walk Rusty (and try to keep him from eating poop) it is freezing. In fact, literally freezing (as in 32 F or 0 C). It makes me sad.
And there is nothing to do in the city. No movies, no theater, very very limited museums. The killer variants of Covid are here. And our lock-down doesn't work all that well since the rest of the country is a patchwork of rules.
Well, Trump is gone and the one FANTASTIC thing is we don't have to listen to him on Twitter and the news. But politics has been demeaned / sullied / fucked up by his antics. His media cultist have tried to turn the daily briefing into a gotcha session. His legislative cultists still cannot admit that the election was fair, for fear of being primaried. What kind of government can operate like that?
Even the news is still tainted by this Trump v. The World mindset that scum-bag little fucks (I'm looking at you Hawly and Cruz) use to stay front and center on TV.
Sitting in this house, day after day. Ed is great, but I think know I am driving him bat-shit crazy.
I know this is a mix of everything, especially nostalgia, but I miss hearing the ocean. Maybe it is a west coast thing, but to be able to hear the waves crashing is the most beautiful and relaxing sound. Waves don't crash on the east coast. AND, even if they did crash here, on the East Coast (at least in New Jersey / New York / Connecticut / Massachusetts) access is a patchwork of private access to lapping waves. Private! Because poor people shouldn't be allowed on the beach?
I want to cry. I want to scream. And I don't want to lay this on Ed, but there is no where to go, nothing to do. So I sleep too much.
I had kind of come to terms with the fact I don't think Ed will ever retire. We agreed to travel more and relax. But I am having a hard time coming to terms with this new life.
And don't tell me it will change. Because every deadline, every measurement, every dumb fuck that calls it a hoax and wont' take the simplest steps to help others says it will be like this for a long long time.