I started out the morning with a figurative black dog on my shoulder - dealing with trying to pay invoices from the painter, where the credit card company was rejecting the invoice because it's not the kind of thing that I normally buy. Yeah... I'm not normally trying to sell my house, so I don't normally hire painters. Look, I've got more than enough in my credit line - just pay the damn thing! And then, of course, the painter who said he would have an invoice to me last Thursday, but didn't get it to me until yesterday evening, calls immediately this morning to tell me that it's not going through, without giving me time to fix the problem. And, of course, my bladder decides this is a good time to start the waterworks... and I'm dealing with the house cleaner coming and a doctor's appointment, which is going to involve going to town and my knees screaming at me for the next couple of days, and...
And then it's time for Marlo's morning feeding. She runs in the door, heading straight for me, joy on the hoof. She bumps her little head against me, impatient for the groceries, but also letting me know that I'm her whole world for the next five minutes (or however long it takes to slurp down her bottle). And then she climbed up Mount Sofa and headed straight for my lap, wiggling and writhing and trying to eat my glasses, my hair, nurse on my ears... whatever part of me she could get to, she wanted part of. She made me laugh and I could feel the black dog slumping off... it's not that he left the room, but there just isn't any room for despair when a baby goat is nuzzling you. I wish that joy for all of you - not necessarily a baby goat (they are a lot of work), but something that can bring you back to joy when you most need it.
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