I hate making phone calls. I hate the sound of the phone ringing (“What fresh hell is this?” Dorothy Parker said every time the phone rang), I hate dialing and waiting for somebody to answer, I hate automated messages, I hate talking to people I can’t see, I hate the freaking phone. But when you move to someplace new, you have to call people. You have to set up trash pick-up, you have to have your chimney cleaned, you have to talk to your contractor, you have to call your insurance agent and tell him you moved, you have to call the vet about getting your dog’s stitches out (okay, that one’s just me), you have to make a lot of phone calls. I put it off for as long as possible, and then today, I bit the bullet and did the whole list. As awful as it was, the feeling of accomplishment was immense enough to stuff my good wolf for days. All that guilt I was feeding the bad wolf, his snarling about my worthlessness and “don’t-forget-to-call-you-dumbass” in the back of my head is gone. I have a crossed-off list; let him chew on that.
And now, free to go back to work on all the other stuff the bad wolf is feeding on, I leave you with this picture of Wolfie, who takes turns with Veronica in the window. I’m thinking I’m going to have to move that lamp because they adore that window with the same white hot passion that I reserve for loathing the phone. and sooner or later they’re going to knock it over. It looks really great there, but that’s their window now.
So right now, in this moment, we’re all happy. Chow down, good wolf, I have nothing but positive things to tell myself right now.
What did you feed your good wolf this week?
Note: Pretend this is Friday. I posted this by accident and once it’s up, it’s up. I’d feel bad about it but (a) it’s just a blog post and (b) I’m not feeding my bad wolf anything any more.