Regression

Today, for the first time in years, I laid on the grass just listening to the Sunday afternoon sounds of the world around me. Conrad was relaxing right beside me, but tied to the fire hydrant in front of our house to make sure he couldn't tear ass after any passing cats. It was nice to just be still for a while, feeling and smelling the thick St. Augustine beneath me; it's the only type of grass I'd want to have anywhere, after having grown up with that old stand-by of the South on every lawn I ever played on.

My blood sugar level's been funky all weekend, leaving me feeling extremely irritable and constantly exhausted. I don't know what exactly the problem is, but I need to figure it out because I feel like ass.