I've been cleaning the garage all day and quite honestly I'm tired of it. Now at least the weather is conducive to garage cleaning. In Wisconsin I hardly notice if I haven't drunk my eight glasses of water. Now if I were in Phoenix this time of year this scenario would play a little differently. First I probably would not have a garage. If I did I wouldn't be able to bare more than ten minutes in it without feeling sick to my stomach, lightheaded, or something worse. I'm glad I'm not in Arizona. I wonder if they even have garage sales in Arizona. They surely wouldn't have yard sales this time of year would they? I'll have to ask Jeanne the next time I'm there. So here I am sitting in my living room, showered shaved and trimmed. I have on beige silky underwear, grey tight shorts, and a bright red tshirt sporting an electric guitar. Millie is laying at my feet on top of my fuzzy cheetah blanket. She's getting ready to bark at me. Lately she's been barking for seemingly no reason. She has food, water, and treats. She doesn't need to go outside. I don't think she's in any pain, though for a 97 year old dog what do I know. I guess we will all find out soon enough. Her hearing is going. I think she senses stress in my marriage. Animals know when one is sick or sad or stressed. Perhaps she's just picking up on what's not being said. So here I sit. Today was a good day. Everyday I am alive is a good day.
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