It recently occurred to me just how often I have conversations with myself. I’ve been aware for a long time that I talk to my dog a lot. He’s the best listener there is. It’s nothing new. But what I just realized is how often I talk to him to bounce the words back at myself. I carry on entirely audible conversations with Meeko and half the time he’s sleeping.
Sleep is actually what made me realize these talks are taking place. This morning I woke up in my normal fashion. I woke to Meeko asking me for his breakfast and I didn’t do this without hitting snooze on every alarm I had set. My sleep patterns change every few months. Lately I’ve been unable to fall asleep easily and it’s near impossible to get out of bed in the morning. Most of us know the feeling of wanting just five more minutes.
I give myself five more minutes, but I probably do it ten times. (I’m weird so don’t think too far into it.) Close to an hour passes from the time my first alarm goes off to the time my feet actually hit the floor in the morning. Halfway through using up my snoozes I make out the sound of Meeko stirring beside my bed. I hadn’t given much thought to how my dysfunctional alarm routine affects him until this morning. I’m off work tomorrow and Monday for Labor Day, so I have a four-day weekend ahead. My Thursday is really my Friday and the anxiety I get before long weekends drives me to have crazy ideas. I’m a procrastinator and there is always at least one or two must get done items on my to-do list the day before any extended period of time away from work begins.
This morning I had to talk myself out of calling into work fake sick. That’s how bad the anxiety was. This is how much I let myself procrastinate. In my head, if I called in sick I could jump start the weekend and the must get done task on today’s to-do list would be there waiting for me upon my return to the office on Tuesday.
When I turned off the absolute last possible alarm, I rolled over and my eyes met Meeko’s. He cocked his head to the side and stared at me. He often looks at me like I just told a bad joke in the morning. The joke being that I’m not ready to get up yet and am starving him as a result.
“I know, I know. It’s stupid. It’s just one more day. It’s a short week.”
“Exactly. Just get up and get on with it.”
“You think I should get up and feed you?”
“You’re right. I should feed both of us. Okay, c’mon, let’s go.”
As I walked into my kitchen and flicked the light on, it dawned on me that the only thing my dog was focused on in that moment was breakfast. And my God was he excited for breakfast. I thought I should probably try to just focus on breakfast too. He didn’t seem too worried about what the rest of his day held.
And so I did it. I talked myself into staying in the moment. Out loud. One thought at a time.
“Orange juice first.”
I ended up going to work today, got my must do task done, and went to a concert tonight. What helped me get through my day productively was paying sharp attention to each individual moment. The quality of my work today was top notch. I got into a groove and just got it done. One thing after the other. One at a time.
Ultimately what helped me get through my day was putting words in my dog’s mouth. I like to think he believes in me when I’m not awake enough to believe in myself. I like to think he’s encouraging me to make the right decisions. Do the responsible thing. He didn’t say anything to me this morning other than he wanted breakfast. I put more than food in his mouth this morning. I put words there too.
I’m grateful I/we always have these words.
Canine Love, and Coffee 