Okay, y’all, let’s just think back on the big difference in my life between February 28th and March 1st. Yes, I’m still amazed at how much better I feel. If you don’t want to speculate about why that is, just think about bees or trains or something instead. But for those of you who are more home-problem-fixing inclined than me, I’ll just point this out.
On the night of February 28th, I opened the window in my bedroom. It has been open since then.
And it’s not just me who’s feeling better. The tiny cat is hopping around like a kitten and Mrs. Wigglebottom about pulled me over four times on our walk this morning as she was chasing after birds or squirrels or just frolicking.
Do you think our heater is to blame?
Just a thought.
Also, on a semi-related note, Mrs. Wigglebottom and I were out on our walk (as previously stated), and the black dog that has been our nemesis since the beginning of time, it seems, was out for a walk with its owner on a leash.
I about died. Both Mrs. Wigglebottom and I just stood there dumbfounded as that dog walked by without even looking at us, like it didn’t even know us, like it didn’t try to bite us every fucking time it was out in the yard and we walked by.
Well, America, if that’s how the dog behaves around its owners, no wonder they left it outside low these many years, because they probably thought that dog was sweet and well-behaved.
I don’t know who disabused them of that notion, because lord knows I was too afraid to go up to their house, but I’m glad someone did.