My office is strangely quiet. The walls are almost empty, my desk has these big shiny empty spots, the shelves hold a few dog eared phone books, and my drawers hold only the essentials. Pen, paperclips, post-it notes. Gone are the coffee mugs, certificates, photos, lotion bottles, and pizza cutter. It has a surreal, twilight zone feeling really. I hardly recognize it as my office anymore. I guess because those things that made it mine are now gone.

So tomorrow is it. The last hurrah, the final push. The light at the end of the tunnel is going to hit me right smack in the face. I’m so excited.

Kevin has already started pulling attitude though. Last night, after dinner, I reminded him, “I cooked so you clean.”

“No way, you’re quitting next week and I’m going to have to work so you get to clean.”

I gave him my “wonder how fast the life insurance check will get here after I bury him in the backyard” gaze and he quickly began loading the dishwasher.

We have agreed, however, that I will take over full laundry duty since it is the No. 1 item of contention in our marriage. I still, however, refuse to iron. Good thing Kev’s an engineer. I think wrinkly, food stained shirts are a requirement of the trade. Which is a good thing ‘cause that’s all Kev owns.

I, however, can’t wait to pack away all my heels and suits and jackets. I plan on spending all day in my pj’s. I’ll scandalize the neighbors who’ll comment amongst themselves, “I think she’s been wearing that same t-shirt all week. She used to be such a pretty girl but now, tsk, tsk, tsk. I wonder if she isn’t slightly, you know, impaired? In the head? And her hair! Don’t even get me started.”

Actually, I am very nice neighbors who, oddly enough, are all retired so I’ll at least have someone to day hello to when I wander out to the front porch around noon to pick up the paper before making breakfast. Hey, someone has to provide scandal for the neighborhood. Might as well be me & my well worn pj’s!

How to Laugh by Baby Dan.

Last night we hit the store for our weekly food run. I guess they weren’t expecting too many shoppers at 10pm on a Monday because they were very short handed and only had a few check stands open. Luckily, both Kevin and I are easily entertained while waiting in line. Kevin was mesmerized by the magazine covers and was happily reading about Cindy Crawford’s husband cheating with a college co-ed. Kevin’s response to the story was to ask me why do they call female college students co-eds? I had no answer so I distracted him with the startling headline declaring Martha Steward has a mean side.

Meanwhile, I was people watching. I was casually checking out what the person in front of me was buying and, after she cleared out, turned my attention to the girl behind me. I think you could almost make up a story from what she had on the checkout pad.

1 box of fruit roll-ups (strawberry flavor)
1 generic brand pregnancy test
1 package of Trojan condoms

Talk about groceries speaking louder than words. Ok, the fruit roll-ups weren’t all that revealing. In truth they were being used to cover the other two items but my prying little eyes managed to peer under the Nabisco box.

The way I see it, a pregnancy test itself can go either way. It could be, “oh I hope it’s yes” or a “please God let it be a no.” Sitting by itself on the checkout pad, I figure I have a 50/50 chance of calling it. Usually, if it’s a young woman with no ring, I decide it’s probably a “no” but you never can tell.

But throw down a pack of Trojans next to the test, and it’s pretty clear what’s going on. I’m thinking she was relying on a “no” pretty badly. Probably had a little talk with the Divine power along the lines of….”if you’ll just let me off easy this time, I swear I will be extra careful from here on out.” Kevin, ever the economist, said he would have just bought the test because, if the result was positive, he wouldn’t be out for a pack of now useless Trojans.

Of course, I could be wrong. She could be buying stuff for a sister or mother or friend. I find, though, it’s the people who only buy two or three items that are the most interesting. I mean, you aren’t going to drive to the store and stand in line for one item unless you really need it, right? I think my strangest express purchase was a bottle of wine, duraflame log, and toilet paper. Yup, I sure know how to put together one wild night of romance.

So next time you’re in the express line with a plunger, bottle of Drano, and grapes, look around because odds are pretty good you’ll find me scrutinizing your purchase and wondering, “why grapes?”

On Saturday, I woke up at the ungodly hour of 9am, plodded down the stairs to the coffee pot, looked out the kitchen window and saw a moose eating garbage out of our neighbor’s trash can.

Well, technically, it wasn’t a moose moose. It was just a really big dog but he could have passed for a baby cariboo. Think Marmaduke meets black lab. He was a giant black lab mix that made Artie look like a poodle. I had Kevin head out to shoo him off and clean up all the spilled garbage on the sidewalk since it was early and our neighbors didn’t appear to be stirring yet. The moose dog grabbed a bag of Tostidos and wandered into our yard where he proceeded to get sick. I guess he had gotten into something spoiled during his trash diet.

I am a sucker for lost dogs and sick lost dogs are more than I can bear. They just tug at my heart and I’m always trying to save them which drives Kevin nuts. (I think he has visions of me being mauled by stray rabid canines. What a worry wart!) So when this poor giant wandered into my yard, I grabbed Artie’s bowl, filled it with some good old dog food and headed outside. I figure, Artie could spare a cup full of grub and this guy needed a good meal.

I approached slowly, using my sweetest dog voice, and he watched me. A little scared but his tail was going a mile a minute and at the sight of the dog dish, he rush up to me, his whole body wagging. While he ate, I checked him out. Collar but no tag. Coat shiny and unmatted, feet very clean. Although he was hungry, he clearly hadn’t been on the street long. So I lured him into the back yard while Kevin called the Humane Society. Of course, they didn’t do pick ups on weekends and weren’t even open until 11 for drop offs.

Artie, meanwhile, was inside going crazy. Some strange dog was eating out his *his* bowl, being talked to in the sweet voice, and getting lots of pets. Poor fat sausage eventually planted himself on the sofa and started to howl in despair. On his best days, Artie is only mildly social toward other dogs and today was not one of them.

We decided our best bet was to hit the pavement so we hooked the moose up to a leash and started wandering around the blocks. We asked everyone we passed if he looked familiar but no luck. The moose dog was, fortunately, very friendly and insisted on getting rubbed by every stranger we met. He was a bit of a leaper as well which proved problematic since, on his hind legs, he could look you in the eye and seemed to just love slobbering you right in the face. Crazy moose dog.

When our stroll produced no results, our neighbor recommended calling local vets to see if anyone had reported a missing dog. I tried the big ones around us without success but left my name and number just in case. When 10:30 rolled around, we decided to take him to the pound and have him scanned for a micro chip on the off chance that he lost his tags but was registered to someone. A little nervous as how he’d react to a car ride (and the fact that his digestive system was not function too well), Kevin swathed the backseat with blankets and we loaded up the moose dog. He traveled like a pro and everyone at the pound fell in love with him at first sight. They were a little knocked out by his size but he was so sweet you didn’t seem to mind. after a while Unfortunately, he wasn’t microchiped so, with a sad heart, we had to leave him there with the hope that whoever owned him would come and claim him.

He was so sad to see us go it broke my heart but Kevin was tough and we walked away. I was heartbroken until, Sunday afternoon, I received a frantic call from a woman three streets down. Her son had lost his dog, Rocky, and she got our name from the vet hospital I had called. She described him as black and huge which was definitely my moose. I gave her his process information with a happy heart. I was relieved Rocky was going home, and Kevin was relieved that he wouldn’t have to adopt another dog.

So next time I’m walking the pooch, I’m going to go by her house just to see if I can catch a glimpse of the moose and say hi.

Friday Five

1. What are the first things that you do in the morning to start your day?

When I wake up, the first thing I have to do is get the dog off of me. For reasons I don’t understand, he loved to sneak up onto the bed in the morning and lie right on top of my legs. Not Kevin’s legs. Mine. Please understand that he is very very fat (over 80 lbs) so the act of removing myself from my own bed is difficult. I think he secretly hopes that if he pins my legs down, I won’t be able to leave the house and then he can spend all day snoozing on the bed.

2. What are the last things that you do at night before going to bed?

I have to check the doors. All three, (front, side & back) to make sure they are locked. Kevin is constantly wandering in and out of the house willy-nilly. I have read far too many mystery novels for my own good and am convinced someone is going to sneak up stairs and smother me if I leave the doors unlocked. So I always check. There is nothing creepier than going downstairs in the morning and seeing that the door was unlocked all night. My over active imagination goes into overdrive and I envision people hiding in my closet and waiting until Kevin leaves before they jump out and get me. Gives me the heeby-jeebies.

3. What daily routine have you recently added to your day?

I have started sweeping the floors almost daily. Take three furry animals and add warm weather. You’ll end up with so much hair lying around the house, you’ll be able to stuff a queen sized down comforter at the end of the week. The only way to stay on top of the situation is a) Nair your pets or b) sweep. The little buggers have learned to run and hid when they see me coming with the pink bottle of Nair so I’m reduced to sweeping.

4. What routine do you wish you get rid of?

Having to wake up every day before noon. That just sucks.

5. What’s the one thing that makes you feel like something is missing if you don’t do it some point within your day?

Checking the mail. I love getting mail even if it’s just credit card offers. My day isn’t right unless I check the mail box. It’s like getting little presents wrapped in white envelopes. Makes me happy. If Kevin ever gets home before me and gets the mail I feel off balance. Like I missed something. I guess I’m just a strange duck.

It’s Friday and there’s finally a new Farscape on tonight. This makes me very happy. Of course, all this week it has been beautiful. Yesterday it was blue skies and 75 degrees out. Today, rainy with a high of 56. And, of course, the rain will stick around all weekend and only decide to clear out on Monday.

This fact is tempered by the knowledge that soon the distinction between a weekend and a work day will disappear for me. Then I won’t be stuck behind a desk watching a beautiful day fade away. Sigh.

(I think someone is sneaking into my office and adding new papers on my desk. Grrrr. Am making no headway what-so-ever. At this rate, will finally be free sometime in the year 2010.)