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Tue | January 31, 2006

my life as a dog-walker

Tuesday. I am back to my New Jersey schedule. I spent the past twelve days living in the West Village at someone's apartment and taking care of her dog.

I am not sure whether I would ever want a dog. They require a lot of care, i.e., picking up their shit, day in, day out. They don't really do anything; they are just there. They are furry and soft, but once you take them on a few walks and see how they trod in urine, you hesitate a little before petting. My hands are dry from all the hand-washing I did.

Then again, the dog served as an external conscience of sorts-- a witness who kept me on good behavior. I am not sure why, but it has something to do with the exteriority of the element. He was a live connection to, and reminder of, reality, and yet an unobtrusive one.

He woke me up in the morning, and sometimes in the middle of the night. He woke me up at 6 or 7, most of the days, which might have annoyed me because one of the benefits I anticipated was that I would be able to sleep later. But I rolled with it, I got up and did stuff--typed a little, thought a little. It was good because I did more that way. And I didn't feel drowsy then, and I don't feel sleep-deprived now. It was quiet in that apartment, which I have learned is essential to me.

So I had a little vacay, of sorts. I explored the area, and walked around, with a dog. Then again it wasn't really a vacay because I was still going to kaps and mostly doing my regular things. It was more of an extensive imagining, role-playing of what it would be like to be a 'normal' person. Or at least, a person living in the village. I also saw a lot of my sister, who happened to be on vacation as well.

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