Oppressively hot, muggy. Don’t envy Rod playing golf. Hope it is only the heat affecting Zach. He’s not right today. It’s as though he doesn’t quite know where he is and what he’s supposed to do now that he is here. He’s following me around as though I’m his safety harness. He looks a bit thin and his stomach seems a little large. I’m always writing him off and so far he has proved me wrong every time so it probably is just the heat.
I’m totally engrossed in my formatting. I can’t wait for the toast to pop up. I’ll take it in and eat it by the computer and continue. Zac is happier in there anyway at the bed by my feet. I just have to be careful to remember that he’s there and not roll over his nose or paws accidentally.
Oh good. It’s up. Perfectly done.