After two weeks with A(K)I, I entered a whole new world without leaving the house further than 500 yards. This is primarily due to the new schedule that was imposed on me.
In fact, I can't even remember when I last slept in and dilly-dallied the day away. It's simply not an option anymore once the day starts at 4:43 and one "carries" responsibility for an innocent being. All over a sudden material and reality merge and everything just becomes about presence.
My biological clock immediately adjusted to the day wake rhythm of a little fur ball, constantly craving the attention of me or at least my feet. As soon as the first sun ray creeps through the curtain, he whimpers and I have to carry him outside if I want to avoid a Jackson Pollock carpet, speckled with piss.
Within days I learned to x-ray the surface condition of the ground, judging every square centimeter of the Berlin malaise by its degree of filth. Even more NOW than ever before as the slightest inattentiveness can lead to major problems. And I'm not just talking asphalt; even a lawn can hold massive dangers (Who would have thought that i.e. awns, some bristle-like appendage of gras, cause a three digit vet bill)
And the fun doesn't just stop there. About a hundred times a day I gotta check the puppy snout to remove "I don't know what" as it discovers something irresistible on every disgusting inch of surface.
So, I figured, in theory it would help to have a fellow sufferer to talk to. Ask for advice how to avoid all the obstacles out there. In theory! As usual this went a little bit out of control.
Once you get in the routine of standing at one particular corner every morning around the same time (like a hooker) with a cute swiffer attached to you, you get a taste of "celebrity burden".
You literally become a tourist attraction. To make matters worse an outgoing personality paired with demaraction problems, doesn't particulary yell "FUCK OFF"
Since last week I got 397 new contacts (just counting the 2-legged ones). And for reasons I can't recall, I joined a group, who I have nothing in common with but a hairy companion.
However, despite all those exhausting obstacles, I regained a lust for life.
All over a sudden life seems to have a purpose besides surrendering into mind spirals and brainstorming original endings / gravestone inscriptions.
For the first time in years, I am actually glad, to wake up and carry a borderline stupid grin on my face, watching this furry thing roll around the floor or even just by sitting in front of me!
OMG, I am actually HAPPY!
Hopefully I wont end up like Annie Lennox, who revealed she might never be able to create again - because she is too happy.
