Taking Tips from Tarzan

Mike was ignoring my best attempts to get off the phone.

I had returned his call as I left the office but the drive home was now over and I was sitting in the driveway in the dark. It had been good to hear that his trip home from the wedding was smooth, but it was time for me to transition to my task list inside. That meant ending the call.

If he had noted my not-so-subtle clues, he wasn’t letting on. He finally got to the point of his call.

“Jimmy, you need to take the night off. Take a hot shower, eat a good dinner, get a cold beer and watch something pointless on TV.”

I was getting out of the car and hanging up as I told him that I would do that, but I had no intention of following through on my promise. There was stuff to do. I needed to find some missing wingnuts for a propane heater we had sold. The garage was still a mess from the wedding. The ceramic flooring that ran through our house was gross and needed a thorough mopping. When those things were done, there was a backlog of new projects to start. So much to do.

Walking up the sidewalk to the front door, I realized that Mike wasn’t the only one who had told me the same thing. It seemed like a lot of people lately had echoed the same sentiment.

Things have been crazy recently. My grandmother passed away thirteen weeks ago. Erin’s wedding prep was a mad dash for the past seven weeks. Mom passed away three weeks ago. James’s personal issues over the past week had me worried and not sleeping well. Our wedding guests just left town after four days at the house. Returning to work, I realized there were eight key items to complete in the next six weeks.

It would be fine, though. The pace was fast, but I could go faster. It would all get done, I just needed to stay focused. Eventually, we would catch up and things would slow down.

But they won’t slow down, will they? Mike was right. I needed the night off.

I opened the front door and Tarzan raced around the corner and down the hall to meet me. Instead of walking past him, I got down on my knees and took time to pet him. He likes to stand on his back legs and put his front legs on my chest, staring me eye to eye while I scruffle his neck and back. When I eventually stood back up, he ran ahead of me into the other room, announcing my entry.

I love that one-eyed pug.

I followed him into the kitchen and found Kim there. I hugged her, and we embraced for a long moment, not like I usually do with my patented move, the quick-squeeze-and-push-away. It was nice. I hadn’t taken the time to do that lately.

We took the night off as Mike had prescribed. It was an unproductive evening, although I did sneak out to find those missing wingnuts.