Separation Anxiety

Olga is off to the kennel this evening. I have terrible guilt every time she looks at me with those bright brown eyes, all curled up on the couch -- a "bovine croissant," as we call her. Wagging her tail, so obviously cozy and happy. I think, "Oh, you poor dog. You have no idea."

Of course, she'll be fine once we drop her off. I have no doubt she'll turn her attention to matters at hand and live entirely in the moment, as dogs apparently do. This is a good kennel, the gold standard from what I can tell -- we're certainly paying gold standard rates -- and she's been there before and knows the guy who's in charge. But the moment of our farewell will be hard.

Dave is staying home again today in an effort to beat his chest cold. I'll be working until noon, and then I'm going to walk home and wind my way through Belsize Park, shooting some stray streets for Bleeding London. I spent much of yesterday highlighting maps of the NW3 and NW1 postcodes showing which streets still need coverage, so I've done my research and I think I can pick most of them off today and tomorrow. (Oh, yeah, and I have to pack at some point.)

We had a holiday gathering at work last night. I stayed just long enough to hear the staff choir sing (sans me, since I dropped out after our Thanksgiving concert) and to have a beer and rub elbows with a couple of people. Just see and be seen, you know? Dave, of course, couldn't come, so I was there as his proxy, too.

The library continued to experience a pounding pace of business yesterday. I realize it sounds ridiculous for me to complain about stress in a library, but good grief, I have felt so busy and harried and just plain crabby. Not very Christmaslike. I hope I'm putting on a convincing cheerful mask for my coworkers and the kids. I'll feel better once we're past today and Olga is taken care of.

(Photo: Isn't this a great shop? Rain barrels, boots, backpacks, suitcases, shoes, even a chair. What is "wholesale retail," anyway?)