In Lieu of Dancing

I'm feeling really good this morning, bursting with energy. I could easily be dancing. So why then, you ask, am I sitting around blogging when doing something productive, like, you know,...something, is available.

Truthfully? Beats me. Of course it is almost quarter to eight and all others here are still abed. Even the dogs, who woke me before six, have gone back to dog dreaming. I would dance, but being the sensitive, considerate soul that I am, I don't wish to wake Woowoo and RTGFKAR with the sound of music. (The Sound of Music? A truly spooky movie. The hills are alive! Run for your life, the hills are alive!) Dancing without the sound of music, I learned on one occasion, can have peculiar consequences. The last time I tried it, I was wrestled to the floor, shot up with tranquilizers and then tested for epilepsy. So that's out. Besides, the song in my head right now is, "Out in the west Texas town of El Paso, I fell in love with a Mexican girl..." and I can't dance to that. I mean I think it's a waltz. Waltzing by yourself looks a trifle too...limp wristed for me. ("Not that's there's anything wrong with that.") I think I'll just keep blogging. For a little while longer, anyway.

Finnegan, the giant, furry, love machine of a dog has just curled himself up under the desk in front me. Whoops, no, changed his mind. Could have something to do with my socks.

We had an earthquake last night right at Midnight. Jigggled stuff around for about half a minute. I said, "Whoa, Charly, that was a good one." She said, "Zzzzzzzzz."
Wish I could sleep like that.

Okay, I've been staring off into space for several minutes scanning the universe for something else to say and nothing has impressed. This is, I've learned, the universe's way of telling me...I'm done.