I am dogsitting tonight. Two adorable Boston Terriers. One of them is a tiny little gal who snorts like a pig when she breathes too hard. The other is a bigger boy, about the size of a boxer, that just loves to jump around. Both of them are cuddlers, which makes it difficult for me to be typing this (they like to be on my lap and on the keyboard). They are precious little guys.
Dogsitting in this foreign house always makes me extra aware of my surroundings and of myself, however. I am all alone, and I hate it. The house is big and empty and unfamiliar... making it terrifying. Luckily it is in a community on a cul de sac so it's not as scary as it could be. But being alone is also odd because as much as I feel rushed and claustrophobic normally because of all the people and stuff going on in my life, being alone is boring and allows my mind to wander and think about too much sometimes. That is an especially bad thing today since I have no homework to distract me and tomorrow is the funeral for my great uncle. A man I was just starting to know well. A man I loved and cared for. It's going to be hard and I would rather my mind stayed away from that subject, but all alone I have little to deter those thoughts.
So here I sit, (or rather, lie) on a couch in a foreign home with two tiny dogs curled up nearby. Trying to keep my mind off of the bad and hoping the night goes by quickly and without a storm (it's getting awfully gross looking out there). I guess we'll just have to see how this goes.
Peace.
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