I started the today on all fours meowing. Sparkypoo, you see, has become a near-neighbor, and asked me to watch her kitties while she was on vacation this week. Well, loving the stuffing out of animals, I, of course, happily accepted. But, her landlord posted signs over the weekend that today, every apartment would be sprayed by the exterminator and all pets should be in a closed bedroom. Skeevy but manageable. No biggie. So, I went over early and found one cat, already in the bedroom, closed the door behind me and set out to find the other. No luck. And, since Sparkypoo just, just moved, there were many cardboard kitty hiding places. So, I’m looking, then I’m on all fours looking and meowing and shaking the food bag, then I’m looking and shaking the food bag and meowing and on the phone with Sparkypoo inquiring about favorite hiding places. I finally found the poor creature hiding out for dear life from the meowing, crazy woman in her house. Both cats, safe from the exterminator. Done.
So, I worked on this and that all day. Went to the supermarket, and with an armful of produce, was told by the manager they’ve done away with shopping baskets to cut down on theft. What? What’s the connection? I don’t get it. What did I miss? Whatever. No big whoop, then I went to the gym, and had a really good workout. So nearly compulsive and fear-driven, yes, but people do a whole lot worse out of fear. At least this was productive. I ran the treadmill silly, I crunched and lifted and squatted and curled. I kicked ass and left feeling like a million. Sure, no level of fitness is really going to shield anyone from anything, but it never hurt, that’s for sure. (Speaking of running, this article, while it raises a good point, made me a little sad. I don’t know if I even want to do another marathon if I’d have to do it without my earbuds on, truth be told.)
And that brings me up to right now. Hello from the bathtub. Yeah, yeah, I know. My laptop isn’t falling in. It’s safe as can be. And, joke’s on you– I happen to soak in the tub wearing a 1920s-era bathing costume, so no need to let your mind wander too far, my dears. I poured myself a glass of pinot grigio, made a little plate of apples, cheese, strawberries and olives and Calgon is, as they say, taking me the fuck away.
The “How Are Guthie’s Nerves?” Test of the Weekend wasn’t lost on me. I’m pausing and chillin’ and all the things I always mean to do but do not. No way, not me, I’m doing them. I’m not just blogging, I’m blogging in the tub with pinot and snacks and Calgon and all that shit. (Oh, and speaking of blogging, I might be in love with this post my other BFF, Laurel Snyder, posted about blogging. Love her. Isn’t she so great?)
Anyhoot, I’m signing off to finish my bath. Take good care.