Confessions of a One-Track Mind

Sharing a double-wide futon with a spaniel-Jack Russell cross is nothing like sharing a king-sized bed with a schnauzer, or even two. I kept trying to avoid squishing the little bugger every time I moved. It rained during the night. I kept waking up, every hour, it seemed like, taking a drink---central air, very dry---and telling myself to go back to sleep. I've had insomnia all week, and the rain helped. Kept cracking my eyelids, going, "Eh, still murky" and falling back asleep.

Had a call from Mrs. C a little bit ago, her checking in. Said the outlet mall she went to was somewhat disappointing---then proceeded to enumerate some of her purchases. Sounded like a pretty good haul to me. *headshake* Talk about how the other half lives! Their refrigerator is packed. Their freezer isn't quite as full, but there's not a lot of space. Comparing that to my fridge, where I have two loaves of bread, four packages of cheese and a dozen eggs, and my freezer, which is a bit better stocked (one package each of ground beef, ground turkey and some sirloin, two packages of tilapia, and partial containers of fish sticks, tater tots and frozer waffles), I'm just left shaking my head. My pantry has stockpiles of tuna, beans, rice and pasta; theirs---I don't know where to start, but there's a helluva lot more of it, and ramen noodles are NOT prominently featured.

Lest you think I'm feeling sorry for myself, I'm not. I'm just struck with incredulity. I've known these folks for *counts on fingers* about seven years now, just visited their house for the first time a week ago, quick pre-sitting tour, and I while I knew they were comfortable, I never really realized *how* comfortable. On the other hand, I DO own my own house free and clear, I haven't dug myself into overwhelming debt during my crisis, I'm healthy and happy---so although I may experience a certain wistful envy, I have no room to complain.

And Hugh Laurie is going to be on Saturday Night Live tonight.