This morning I felt the full meaning of the "plog." As I lay stretched out on the bed, feeling sad, I was at once bogged, fogged, flogged and nogged. As energy leaked out of me, I saw myself spending the day drifting in and out of sleep and not caring much about what happened.
It's Such a Perfect Day (Lou Reed) sang out from my phone. It was Mariel calling from Boston telling me her latest travel plans and by the way did I pick up her dress from the cleaners. I had no choice but to get up and get moving.
The big event of the day was taking our dog Buck for an ophthalmology exam at the New York Veterinary Hospital. Buck was born with a problem in his left eye. His vision seemed to be deteriorating in that he was bumping into things more and more. It turns out he has detached retinas in both eyes which will be treated with 20 mg of prednisone per day. Sound familiar?
I was relieved. If they'd told me Buck was going blind, I would've crawled into bed when we got home. Instead, Marty made me an egg cream and I wrote this post.,