Call me Dr. Dolittle

I've been sitting in the approximately the same spot, between the couch and the table, sometimes on the cushions, for about ten hours. And I can finally mark one thing off my to-do list. Today marked Day One of Solo in Austin, after taking the 'rents to the airport at 6:45 this morning. I picked up a Einstein Bros. latte and honey whole wheat bagel and made my way back home. A short nap later, after letting the dog out and sending the dueling cats to their separate corners, I started working on the Spontaneous Theater Project website.

Design-wise, the website is without question my project I'm most proud of, and I couldn't be more pleased that it is for this group, started by my friends. The group has done exceptionally well - in its productions, in its fundraising, and in the press. That STP is participating in the 2008 Boston Theater Marathon is pretty exciting. Though each company only has 10 minutes to perform an assigned play, the invitation to join demonstrates that STP has its spot in the professional Boston theater community.

Then... there were the in-between moments of my day. These, I'm realizing, might serve as a forecast for whats in store for me these next two weeks. The dog pooped on the carpet, the cats had a couple small stand-offs, and Levi (the older cat, who is now 18 and deaf) let out these incessant yowls after being in the garage too long. I appeased that cat with some Fancy Feast, which he snarfed, and this encouraged Cindy (my cat) to follow me until I fed her too. Then, I took the dog - who has to go out every few hours these days - for a walk to the mailbox. She seemed to have cabin fever, and my design files were publishing, so we found the leash and went.

Halfway down the block, I realized I hadn't brought along a plastic bag, which would at least give the allusion to my parent's neighbors that I was going to pick up my dog's shit, should the moment arise. Let me tell you: I'm not picking up my dog's shit. This isn't the city, and it's not a circus. And truthfully, the idea didn't even occur to me until halfway down the block. So we walked in the street, along the curb, away from the temptation of grass. We arrived at the mailbox, and the dog took a monster liquid shit in the grass right next to the group mailbox. No lie.

But things should be looking up - a few friends might come visit from Boston next weekend, and the weather is to get into the 90s soon, which means I'll be able to write cover letters while lounging by the neighborhood pool. That, of course, is assuming I'm not red-flagged for the dog poop incident.