Off-balance

The dog has good nights and bad nights. After a painstaking climb following her walk, she finally arrives on the landing at the top of the stairs and then tries to take another step, lifting her paw only to step on thin air.

Having done the same thing, I know exactly how she feels, that weird panic as you step through nothingness, the way the earth tilts a little even after you've found your footing again.

I feel a stab of sympathy as I realize she's felt like this for years.
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One year ago: I've Been Wanting to be Nice to Someone All Morning
Two years ago: Firewall
Three years ago: Inspired
Four years ago: The Shameful Science
Ten years ago: Flea Market

Doctor Somebody

The gray, foggy day turns to rain as we walk down 4th Avenue in Brooklyn after Katie's eye doctor appointment. Her pupils are still dilated, so I'm holding her hand to make sure she doesn't trip or fall, since she can't see.

"What was the doctor's name, again?" she asks as I dig through my bag for an umbrella.

"Roger," I say.

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One year ago: Pebbled

Two years ago: Literally

Three years ago: Adventures In Spatial Integrity

Four years ago: I'm Not Worthy

Seven years ago: Anatomy of a Fight

Ten years ago: Angels and Douchebags

Following Directions

On the way to the post office, the driver suddenly stops with a exclamation of dismay, and makes to turn the car around.

I realize he thinks he's going the wrong way, and I reassure him that we're on the right street, going the right way.

"I usually work in Manhattan," he says apologetically, turning to drive up the avenue, the way I originally told him to go.

"We'll get through this together," I say.
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One year ago: Revenge
Two years ago: Cancer and Entropy
Three years ago: Making Friends These Days
Four years ago: A Block is About 100 Steps
Seven years ago: Bad Mood Meanderings
Ten years ago: A New York Moment

Different Types of Sad

"It's just so incredibly sad," I say, after the episode of "Black Mirror."

"What is?" Katie asks.

"Well, the way that they portray humanity as basically awful," I say, struggling to explain exactly what I find so unpleasant about the show.

"You know, some of the things you write make me about that sad," Katie says matter-of-factly.

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One year ago: Distrust

Two years ago: Wake Up

Three years ago: Another Thought on Teeth

Four years ago: Both Wrong

Ten years ago: Starry Dynamos Under Glass

Blaming the Victim

We put the pillow up in the doorway in the middle of the night to keep the dog from barking her stupid head off.

In the morning, though, it turns out she's peed on it.

I wash the pillowcase and drench the pillow itself in Nature's Miracle so it doesn't stain, and then go to the living room to do yoga, only to find that the cat has thrown up on my bag.

When I tell Katie about the presents left by each animal for me, she asks incredulously, "What did you do?"

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One year ago: Milking It

Two years ago: Another Timeline

Three years ago: Twitching Whiskers

Four years ago: Think Skinny Thoughts

Ten years ago: Lions and Common People

Look Up

The sidewalks are relatively clear, but the snow is piled in foot-high banks at the curbs and the sidewalks, with narrow paths cut through them where folks have worn them through. Sometimes you have to take turns walking through the cuts with your fellow pedestrians to avoid having to navigate the more treacherous berms between the streets and the sidewalks. 

Then there's this asshole: paused at the crosswalk right in front of the narrow pathway through the snow pile, scrolling through her phone as the foot traffic stacks up behind her until finally, with a tsk of disapproval, somebody tromps over the ice to go around her, leading the rest of us to do the same.

She looks up from her phone guiltily when she realizes what's going on, but it's already too late, and everybody on the street has decided she's the worst human being they know.

---------------

One year ago: Snow Globe Sunday

Two years ago: So, Like, Sushi?

Three years ago: Compression

Four years ago: The Play IS The Thing

Ten years ago: Open Heart Surgery

Forced Perspective

"You know that moment when you've been inside all day?" I ask Katie. She's a few steps ahead of me, walking quickly toward the grocery store, as she neglected to wear a hat and the cold is getting fierce. "It's like your eyeballs have to get used to seeing things at a distance again."

"Like a baby!" Katie agrees.

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One year ago: Called on Account of Weather

Two years ago: Startled

Three years ago: I Love You, MTA

Four years ago: Frost/bite

Ten years ago: Meta-bragging