I’ve been trying to post for thirty-five minutes now. Or rather, perhaps I’ve been trying to post closer to twenty-five, or forty-five – I don’t really know. I woke up after a horrible night’s sleep, brought on I am sure by a too-late dinner and my inability to put Susan Sontag’s recently published first journal down. Throughout the night I alternated between feeling too hot or to cold or dreaming about being caught in Sontag’s fraught, distressed world. Skylar and I had a few nice hugs and much paw-giving – for he is very submissive first thing in the morning, all doggy yawns and love – before we found out, after the coffee started perking and I brought the papers in from the front, that for the life of my I suddenly couldn’t unlock the backdoor. I don’t know if it froze overnight or what, but no matter how much force I put on the key I simply could not unlock the back door. I had to put Skylar on his leash and walk him through the front door around back, managed to unlock the backdoor from the outside, and it seems as though ever since my failure to quickly accomodate his one basic need (for I don’t do it right away because now I watch Cesar Millan and understand the dog should follow my lead and in my world coffee trumps peeing) has forced him to test my competency in other ways, and thus today I have had to put his dog bed on top of the fridge because he wants desperately to eat it in its entirety, take away S.’s blackberry and finally, as close to seven as I could push it, let him into the bedroom to wake up S. because this dog, he is still so new, and he is just not comfortable unless we three are all on the same floor. (Don’t worry, Millan fans – I did none of it in anger!) As soon as the light starts coming back to the morning I will walk him before breakfast but we live in a city and there are too many vagrants lingering in the park near our house before first light for e to feel comfortable.
And so – I am feeling – overtired and a little stiff and like a bad, bad doggy leader and also cannot believe I have to have S. help me unlock the backdoor from the inside when he finally wakes up.
I am hoping the day improves from here on out. In any case, I have put in my latest music find and topped off my coffee and already my mood is improving. The current tune? “San Francisco” by Brett Dennen. I think I will always remember the first time I heard this song. The radio station on my alarm clock is set to 91.3, WYEP, a local public radio station that plays alternative rock for adults (so it claims) and if you live in Pittsburgh you should absolutely make it a point to listen several times a week. ANYWAY. My alarm had sounded, and lately I have made it a point to rest in bed for a few songs before fully waking. On the particular day I heard Brett Dennen for the first time, I could hear freezing rain hit my windows. The forecast, I knew, brought nothing but the same slate scrim it had for weeks and while I love my city there are days when the lack of sunshine can play my nerves like an out-of-tune piano. Then onto the radio came Brett Dennen and while his single “Make You Crazy” is more often played, I fell in love with the words to “San Francisco” that morning. It’s a perfect escapist song. Saturday I purchased his whole album and I find it entirely relaxing, a great cd for a drive on a sunny day or while doing housework. Without further ado, here are the lyrics to “San Francisco” – if you are feeling a little blue and perhaps have had a silly Monday morning as well, this song is a great anecdote: