Where I'm not going...

I'm sitting here with a lousy cup of decaf, because it's obviously too late to drink a cup of the real stuff. The decaf is so bad, that I only drink it with the greatest amount of distaste and not at all for my pleasure, but I doubled up on the pads and made the coffee in a relatively small mug, so it doesn't taste too bad. You have to develop all sorts of tricks to make the unpalatable palatable, because it seems that manufacturers are unable to make good decaf coffee pads. Why this is, I don't know, but I think somebody is getting away with murder and letting us pay for an inferior product and I think we ought not to take it lying down and boycott it. Actually, I already am and haven't bought any decaf pads in a long time. These I've had forever, because neither the Exfactor nor I want to drink that coffee and always opt for the real kind that's so much better. This decaf is like drinking an extract made from burned rubber bands and I don't know why I bother, except it's the closest thing to drinking coffee except for the real coffee itself. Well, I do make sacrifices when it comes to getting my fix at night and I wasn't in the mood for a cup of tea. I wanted something like a cappuccino and that is what the Senseo machine gives me. I wanted the creamy foam on my top lip and that is what I got.

Jesker managed to get his three walks in today anyway, he just staggered them at different times and I swear that dog knows how to count, because he didn't get his first walk until way after noontime. I thought he would just need another one at 6 pm, but no, he wanted to go out a 4 pm and then again at 8pm, so he is wise enough to figure out how to get all his walks of the day anyway. He was so proudly walking on the leash as if he had just invented the wheel and was making a triumphal march around the neighborhood with me in attendance with the baggies in my pocket. Sometimes I wonder who is leading who over the sidewalks. I think I play a very secondary role. I'm the poop picker upper. I always bless him when they are of a solid quality.

When we came back, Gandhi escaped in the stairwell again, so I left the door ajar, so she would be able to get back in when she was ready. I forgot about it being open until an hour later and went to check on it and found it wide open and Gandhi sound asleep on my bed. Then I went to see if maybe Toby had escaped in the meantime, but I found him in the kitchen sitting by the faucet waiting for water to come out of it. He thinks if he stares at it long enough, it will magically happen. It is nice that there is an extra outside door, though, so I don't have to worry about keeping my front door ajar. The other people in the building know that the cats belong to me, so there's no confusion about that. They ring my doorbell if they think one of them is about to escape outside. It is no big deal if they do, because they just walk around the block and come in through the back door again.

I am looking forward to going to bed and sleeping late again like I did this morning. I may get up early for awhile, but I will go back to bed again until I'm really ready to face the day properly and quite rested. That is the nice thing about the weekend, that you feel free to do that, as you think that nobody will come to the door to bother you, especially on Sundays. I suppose it is good to have one day of complete rest. I'm very lucky that Jesker is satisfied with a quick piddle out back in the morning and doesn't really have to be walked until later, when I can be bothered to get up and get dressed. The book of short stories by Alice Adams I'm reading in bed is very good and I'm looking forward to reading the novels that I have of her. She can describe her characters in a few short sentences and you can picture them in front of you completely. They are all unconventional and yet probably people you'd meet in the street every day. I don't know anything about her and must do a Google search on her. I don't even remember how I got her name, but I must have read a novel or short story by her at one time. I wrote down all the women authors that I liked a long time ago and I think she was one of them. That was in a period of my life when I read 6 books a week. I read every waking moment just about and hardly spent time behind the computer.

I just Googled Alice Adams and found out that she died 10 years ago and that she used to live in San Francisco, so I missed my chance at meeting her, had I known about her way back then. The last time I was in San Francisco was in 1994.

Well, it's time for me to put my pajamas on and get something to eat and take my medicines. It's been a pleasure as usual. It will be nice to go to sleep and I hope you're all looking forward to it as much as I am.

Have a good night.

Ciao,
Nora