The deep wallow.
A chest-high malingering in filth of your own making.
Admittedly, that’s probably not its textbook definition, but it is mine. And since I am the one currently languishing in it, I claim the right to define it.
Yep, the last weekend has been spent in a blogless stupor which I apologize for sincerely. Worry about Papaya Sunshine, my heartworm-positive potcake, overran me for a while. And me, being me, I deep wallowed in the worry.
Normalcy shall return on Thursday, once I and my puppy finally return to Florida.
As always, thank you for your patience and loyalty. Potcake kisses for you all.