Sorry for my bloggie absence. As I said, I was just as mentally tired as I have been physically tired. Work has been exceptionally busy, which is good, but it has been much longer hours than normal.
To top it off, I'm getting a little bit sick, which sucks. It is mostly in my throat. It started coming on yesterday.
Yesterday morning, I was out walking Mayer. Now, before I go on, let me just say something. You can ask many of my friends, and they will all confirm that one of the things that I was really excited about when I moved into my current apartment complex was that they had little stations all around the complex with disposable bags and trash cans whereby pet owners can pick up their dog's "business." I was excited, because it implied that the complex was very pet friendly, and they have been.
So, back to yesterday. I'm sick, and its like 30 degrees outside (seriously, I love the cold weather, but Texas is really pissing me off this year). I was just ready for Mayer to do his "business" and then get back into the warmth of my apartment. Mayer can be an obstinate dog, but this time he was quick. I picked up his "business," threw it away, and started to head back.
Another aside: My apartment complex does not drain well. If it rains, the grounds will still be muddy a week later. It is one of the things I like least about my complex. Anyway, I cut across one of the lawns, and in the middle of it, I began to realize that it was just sloppy with mud. I lightly trudged across, looking ahead to the 20 yards or so I had to the other side. On the other side, there were three guys working on a mid 80's minivan. It was a beater. So, as I made it to the other side, and got to the concrete, I looked back and Mayer had decided that he had to have a go at Round 2, "business-ly" speaking.
I was ready to get inside, and I was fairly non-plussed about trudging back through the mud, so I decided I was just going to leave it.
"I know you aren't gonna just leave that," said one of the guys working on the minivan.
"I don't need this shit," I thought to myself.
"Man, I'm sorry, but I'm not walking back through the knee-deep mud to get to it," I said.
The guy dropped his wrench and walked up to me and attempted to look menacing.
"Kids play around in there, and you are just gonna leave it like everyone else. That is just bullshit," he said.
"Maybe you should be more concerned about getting your crappy-ass van working so you can get it out of this parking lot so it doesn't make us all look like poor white trash, and mind your own business."
Ok, I didn't say that. But I really wanted to. I replayed the possible consequences in my head. I just imagined myself saying that, and then the sound of two more wrenches dropping to the ground as his buddies approach me. This would lead to me having to the inevitable line that, although I've never had to employ, has always been in the back of my head as a way to get out of a fight: "You don't wanna do this guys, because I'm an easy bleeder, and I might have diseases." Yeah, it wouldn't have been my finest hour.
But the thing is, he was kinda right. And I was struck by the irony (in my own head) that the only reason he wasn't minding his own business was because I wasn't minding Mayer's "business." So, I did what anyone would do: I told him that I would come back and pick it up, but that I was gonna put Mayer back inside first, and then I went back to my apartment and hid for the rest of the day.
Yeah, not my finest hour. I'm feeling a little better today, by the way.
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