i know that i should clean my house, but it's such a daunting task.

as per usual, we're all in bed- me resting at the head, feeling the cold air leaking through the windows (that should have been weather proofed if only i could bear the thought of plastic covering my windows), leopold lying at the foot of the bed, dark, creamy eyes fixed on me in a sleepy, love-filled gaze, bippy sleeping to my right, curled into a soft, heaving ball.

we've got big decisions to make, the three of us do. big life decisions. my cats are fortunate to have no responsibility, no duty. the weight of their decisions never bears heavy on their frail little shoulders. life is a simple formula of sleeping, eating, bathing.

people are pouring out of the spanish pentecostal church across the street. i like to imagine where people are going, who they go home to. what they pray about. what makes them laugh and what makes them cry.

so i'm bare boned and crazy for you when you come crash into me, baby.