Despatches II

It's quiet.

Finally.

Bunny dragged himself off to work several hours ago, and I imagine he is now suffering in a serious way. Hopefully he's hiding in the back office, and not forced to interact with any clients with a king hell hangover riding his back.

Snuggles is still sleeping on the couch. I think we have broken him, damaged him in some permanent way. If left to his own devices, Snuggles is a sprinter, not a marathoner, and I think the relentless grinding pace of the last five days has left a mark. The cracks appeared Sunday when I was witness to something I'd never seen before: a silent Snuggles. Completely mute.

And yes, there has been baseball. Yesterday everything was right and well in the world, at least for the few short sunny hours in which I took in my first ball game of the season. * Two hot dogs. Beer. A day warm enough to wear just a t-shirt and jeans. A Schilling win. A Foulke save. Thousands - I am being quite literal here - of Red Sox fans rocking Camden Yards. Yesterday was my New Year's Day. Yesterday I finally shook the dust of 2003 - a long horrid year in which I lurched from one disaster to another - off of my feet, and welcomed 2004.

It's about fucking time it got here.

*No, we didn't get tickets for the game Sunday night. But once we realized how cold it was, we didn't try too hard either.