Momo sits atop the Tyvaso box surveying his world. I wonder what he thinks. From my angle, he looks like he plans an attack, just daring anything new to creap into his domain. His head moves side to side. Occasionally I can see his nose moving, drawing in the aromas near him. Once the environment passes the test, he allows Morpheus to take over.
Morpheus seems to rule my life as well. Now that I finally begin to have some oomph, I have no motivation. Not doing anything quickly gains habit status. Sadly, washing the dishes becomes a triumph in the game of daily chores. The combination of dishes and any other chore rates a bronze medal. Seldom do I earn the gold.
Today the bathroom calls not too subtly.
Miss you, Dude.
Later.
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