Every night I tell my dog, “I love you Monsieur le Roof-Roof.”
I know he’d tell me he loves me if he could. Because I feed him.
And if he did, he’d be the first boy to tell me he loves me in years and years and years.

It’s not even as close to as sad as it sounds.

Sometimes it’s hard to do the right thing.
“They” say that January 17th can be the most depressing day of the year. I read that. On the Internet. And so it’s true.
I don’t think that holds for me this year. I’m pretty sure there are stormier days ahead. Maybe what the star people call their Saturn Return. One last chance to rebel before midlife hits. For me, I need to unrebel. Rebelling got me here, and I’ve been trying to do the opposite for a long time now with mediocre results. The opposite of rebelling still requires action. I just don’t know what that action is yet.

I worked out today. It turns out we have a pretty decent
gym set up in our basement. Good enough to get over the cabin fever
anyway. It’s so cold out that the dog wants to be carried to and
from the door so that his paws only have to touch the snow and ice
while he’s doing his business. I don’t blame him at all. Today was
a big day for getting things cleaned up. The kitchen, mostly. I
called my folks. I made chili. I watched intervention. And, most
exciting, I ordered a canvas print of a picture I took back in 2009
for our den, which I recently finished painting. I want to put in
New floors next. Hopefully the wall hanging will help satiate my urge
to renovate. Sometimes the small things help me from destroying the
big things. In this case, the floor.