A dog walk, a restless night, and the strange ways a mind tries to settle. Dog Walks, Busy Brains, and Strange Nights The dog and I went for a walk to the park this morning. I was hoping she’d do her dog dirt by the Mormon church so I could toss it in the bin and keep going, but she didn’t. So no second lap. I kept thinking she’d save it for the city side, but nope — nothing. Just me, the dog, and the quiet disappointment of carrying an empty bag. So I snapped a photo, took a breath, and kept walking. Another little adventure with Dixie. Last night was a whole different story. My brain was running wild — like I was collared to the temple by the neck chain, dragged into thoughts I didn’t want, didn’t consent to, didn’t ask for. Word order all scrambled, meanings twisting around each other. I couldn’t shut my busy busy brain off until three or four in the morning. Eventually I just handed the whole mess over to the dog, like, “Here, you take it. I’m done.” Five hours of sleep, maybe...
Walking Through the Static The dog and I slipped out for a walk this morning, the kind where the world feels a little sideways and your brain is still trying to boot up. Two hellos from two different people—small human moments that land softer than you expect. A few yips from a little dog, one bark from mine, and the usual two dog‑dirt bags filled and tied. A short jot down the road and the walk was done, just like that. Simple, but it counts. My day has been spaced again, like the world is slightly nauseating if I look at it too directly. Words feel like they’re vibrating wrong—world, word, whirl—none of them sitting still. I woke up with those weird engine‑starting thoughts, the kind that rev in your head before your feet even hit the floor. Maybe it’s just the season. Maybe it’s just being human. I hope everyone out there gets where they’re going safely today. Roads are full of people carrying their own static. I keep thinking about my next day off and how the mountains always...