Man, I don't think I can get high anymore; my personality changes, she notices, and her personality changes. I get too nice, lose confidence; she gets vicious, more prone to biting. It's absolutely imperative that I keep a clear head. I almost lost an arm trying to take a sock away that she became attached to. She misjudges her strength and I have to stay on top of her to make sure she knows when she's going too far. I appreciate the challenge, so it shouldn't be too much to ask of myself. I'm too attached to her; it scares the hell out of me to see my confidence slipping and watch her not pay me respect. I don't think I really need it anymore; she makes me less restless; I have to generate calm for the both of us; I feel like I'm approaching a point where I can concentrate at work, but I still have no desire to draw or paint.

To calm her down (and myself, because her behavior had set me on edge), we went up to the roof. She's getting good at climbing stairs. She's very afraid of heights; perhaps that's a common trait amongst dogs; I think they lack good depth perception but I could be wrong. What I know is that she stubbornly refuses to get on an elevator or stairwell and I either have to persistently coax her to succeed or pick her up.

The roof is actually a shitty place to take a puppy. There are planks missing in one side of the veranda that she could crawl through, and the wooden planks underneath are moldy and peeling paint. She was obsessed with what I imagine are hundreds of smells from parties still lingering in invisible traces that only a dog would notice. At one point I had to wrestle a paint chip she peeled loose from her mouth; I literally had to open her mouth and pull it off her tongue; I'm still paranoid that she managed to swallow something. I all happened so quickly, gave me some white hairs.

It was cold and I wasn't in the mood to play my bass, so I let her climb into my lap and she fell asleep inside my coat. I got bored and talked to myself with more gusto than ever before. I talk to get her used to the sound of my voice and because it puts her to sleep, but I must admit I used it as an excuse to think to myself out loud, and with my head a little whacked, I went into a strange, open-ended soliloquy about Atlanta and the future, and I imagined broken fragments of it echoing around the city, caught by passers-by and homeless. Despite the worrying fact that I was essentially talking to myself, I felt comfort that she was fast asleep, and I was able to laugh at myself and how weird it would have been for anyone witness to my numerous philosophical tangents which wandered unsteadily between wistful and angst-filled.

I take her everywhere because I enjoy it and the more she experiences the calmer she gets; her personality has changed so drastically in so few days, it's startling. I don't do it to attract girls, but a puppy does seem to be a girl magnet; I don't take advantage of it; as usual, I'm a gentleman. I can't help it, they just come up to me. But today there was one girl I met in Saxby's I'm stuck on. She was beautiful. When the server said animals weren't allowed, I negotiated a compromise. I agreed to take her outside if I could first order my cappuccino. The girl who had taken to Zhanar, her name was L_, was so sweet; she brought me my coffee. What I wouldn't give to meet her again. I don't regret not trying to get her number or give her mine; as I said, I take Zhanar everywhere for fun and I wouldn't want to exploit that for selfish reasons. I can only hope that we'll run into each other again, and, if not, it will kindle my heart and give me fuel for daydreams.