It doesn't bode well for the day when you lurch yourself out of bed to discover that your back is out and your first and only thought is "How much longer before I can go back to sleep?". It probably didn't help that I "dressed' myself for the day in sweatpants and a tank top. Nothing says "Bring it on world!" like a drawstring waist, pants that make you appear to be smuggling a loaf of bread in the ass and your bra straps sliding down your arm.
The real result of my first class start to the day is that I'm nursing a pretty bad case of writer's block. I actually think it is a combination of lack of sleep, sore muscles from a much much much overdue yoga class and stress about trying to help out a neighbor by taking in her cat. Or maybe I'm just out of things to say... yeah right, in Brock's dreams. The sleep problem can be cured by Benadryl and the muscle soreness can be alleviated through a combination of more exercise, hydration and two Advil. Unfortunately though, the final issue of the cat proves more difficult as she hates us and has spent the last three days torturing us through a variety of well honed feline passive aggressive methods. She lurked under the bed for two straight days, yowled through the night in our bedroom (thus keeping us awake), growled at any and all children (not cool), hissed at the dogs (I understand) and fought with Smelly Cat through the sliding door (I should have recorded it and sold to to Hollywood for the soundtrack to a horror film). The best part was when she professed her sheer and utter disdain for me by attacking my naked thigh this morning with her fully sharpened set of ninja kittah claws. I guess that in exchange for me feeding her, petting her and letting her camp out under my bed, she thought it was best to repay my kindness by shredding my flesh to a bruised and bloody pulp. Thank you kitty. Message received. Thank God it was only my already hail damaged/spider vein splattered leg and not the perfectly smooth baby cheeks of one of my precious Things.
|The injury is much more impressive in person.|
.....And the cat has left the building.
Hey, I tried.
I later made good use of nap time by staring into a blinking cursor on my blank "new post" page until I clicked away to read a friend's blog post where she told us that her mother informed her that she didn't need a bra until she could hold a pencil under her special tissue.... unaided by her hands. Then I realized (yet again) that I really have no place buying or owning bras.
Later I had a IM conversation with a different friend where we were discussing the always stimulating topics of weight loss, boobs and alcohol. They may or may not be related . Here is a snippet:
Me: Can you give me a bit of your boobage? I need help.