Dog is an excellent Relaxer.
She climbs up onto any damn couch she likes and doesn't give a rats' arse if she is wet or dirty, she plops herself down and is out to it in seconds.
I have spent a ridiculous amount of time on the couch lately and she just bloody loves that. She climbs up over the top of me and snuggles in and does not move until it's time to eat or shit or bark at something or someone outside. If I have the temerity to move, cos I have to pee, or drink or take drugs, well she doesn't really care, cos she just stretches out and takes up as much room as she can. If I want to get back on the couch, then there is quite a lot of shoving and pushing and moaning - mine not hers. Sometimes I need to turf her off altogether so I can make some room and then she just pops back up and is out to it again in a heartbeat. Lucky sod.
But I admit that I have given myself permission to have a bit of a relax while I am shingling about. The washing has mounted up and only today I have attacked the growing mountain of 'infected towels' Food has been a bit of a 'who gives a shit' issue, and unless the shower has been loudly shouting at me, I have managed to ignore it too. Yesterday, I think for the first time in my life, I turned a piece of clothing inside out, cos I fancied a clean side next to my skin and there was not another singlet in the drawer...now that's a minging little admission huh?
We are both running out of clothes and the ironing basket is growing like a bacteria in a warm environment, and so yesterday when by a fabulous bit of serendipity, I spied a flier from Julie who is looking for cleaning work,( ironing was in the small print) I thought all my christmases had come at once.
I called her and she is coming tomorrow to tackle that ugly sucker.
Except that I am not at all sure what I should do with myself while she slaves away.
That is not a relaxing thought.
But the idea that the mountain will be morphed into a neat hanging lot certainly is.
So Yippee again. Come on down Julie.