reading: The Other Woman, by Jane Green.
Finished recently: Naked Prey, by John Sanford. I realized about twenty pages into this book that I read it back in 2003, but I couldn’t quite remember what happened, and it was interesting enough that I wanted to keep reading it. It was definitely worth reading again.
Also finished recently: Me & Emma, by Elizabeth Flock. A review on Amazon called this book “meandering”, and I have to say that’s a pretty good word to describe it. I actually raised my personal rating for the book from two smilies to three, just because the twist at the end caught me by surprise. A more astute reader would probably have caught the hints of the twist much earlier than I did, but I think I tend to be too trusting – unless the book is a mystery – and they pretty much went right over my head.
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Yesterday morning was my usual morning at the pet store. I went in with the intention of not lollygagging around, just getting the cages cleaned out and the cats fed and watered and petted. Miz Poo had an appointment with the vet at 10:30, and after I left the pet store, I needed to go to the grocery store (Fred got groceries Saturday morning, but then we apparently ran out of just about everything, and Monday is my regular run to the store to pick up whatever we’ve run out of between Saturday and Monday), and wanted to come home and eat breakfast and take a shower before I left for the vet’s office.
As usual, when I want to get in and out of the pet store quickly (I was aiming for 45 minutes instead of the usual hour to an hour fifteen) I turned into a total freakin’ klutz. I knocked so much stuff over – food bowls, water bowls, the trash can I scoop the poop into – that I was about ready to throw up my hands and give up trying. I managed to get out of there in about an hour, though, so I guess it was all good.
I got through the grocery store pretty quickly, came home, ate breakfast, showered, got dressed, tossed Miz Poo in the carrier, and got to the vet’s at the stroke of 10:30. Miz Poo cried mournfully for the first five minutes of the drive, but finally gave up, curled up in a corner of the carrier, and glared up at me for the rest of the ride.
We were in and out of the vet’s office in less than ten minutes. The vet pointed out that Miz Poo still has a spot of ick (okay, perhaps she called it “Plaque”) on her upper lip, but she’s definitely doing a lot better. She gave Miz Poo her shot, and told me to bring her back in three to four weeks. Since four weeks brings us to the day after Christmas (um, WHAT?) and they’re not open that day, and the spud and I are leaving for Maine that Tuesday, I made her appointment for the Wednesday before Christmas.
The rest of the day was pretty low-key, except that I got an email from Fred letting me know that the people from the local charity to whom we are donating the couch and loveseat and a TON of shit we’ve purged during our decluttering of the house were going to be here today between 9 and 12, which meant that I needed to get my ass upstairs and go through the storage spaces in his bedroom, and look through the luggage we have (we have a LOT of luggage) to see if there was any we wanted to get rid of.
I would provide you with a picture of the boxes and bags of shit we donated to the local charity, but to be honest, I didn’t think of it before now, so you’re out of luck. Just believe me when I say you’d be awed and amazed at how much shit we’re getting rid of – the guys who picked the stuff up were pretty amazed. And considering how much shit we’re getting rid of, you’d think our house would be empty and echo-y, but you would be wrong. For the most part, you can’t even tell there’s anything missing.
Perhaps I’ll make it my New Year’s Resolution to not fill my house with crap in 2006. Considering how well my not-buying-books resolution worked in 2005, I’d say I’ll probably be posting an entry about getting rid of all the crap in my house riiiiiiight around this time next year.
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Every morning I wake up with a song bouncing around my brain. It’s always a different song, and there’s never any explanation for why that particular song has invaded my brain. Sometimes it’s a song I like, sometimes it’s only a song I’m familiar with and neither love nor hate. This morning, it was the theme to Love Boat.
When I was a kid, I honestly thought that
Doc sang the theme song, I have no idea why. Maybe because he looked like the voice fit him?
The LOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE BOAT, soon will be taking another run….
* * *
I did
triceps extensions on Sunday, and have fucked up my triceps in a big way. Not permanently – I’m sure in a few days I’ll feel just fine – but right now it hurts to lift my arms any higher than shoulder level, and I never knew just how much time I spent scratching my head, rubbing my nose, and playing with my hair before now. Now that it hurts to do any of that, it’s annoying as hell.
Grrrr.
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I swear to god I’m going to start wearing a turtleneck to bed, because waking up at 3:30 every morning with Sugarbutt frantically licking at my neck is not a sensation I’m wild about. Also, the claws on bare skin (even though I keep his claws clipped) isn’t anything I care for, either.
Bless his stinky little heart, it’s a good thing he’s so cute.
We do our best to make sure the furniture matches the cats.
“When I am feeling cranky, an ice-cold Diet Dr. Pepper makes me happy. See? This is me, happy.”
The brudders love to tell secrets.
All of today’s uploaded pictures are
here.
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Previously
2004: Ever had one of those days when you just can’t remember the name of anything?
2003: No entry.
2002: I keep wanting to use the phrase “Sweet crappin’ Jesus!”, and just haven’t determined the right moment to do so. Maybe in the middle of sex?
2001: Her name is Brady James.
2000: If I knew whodunnit, I’d beat that $300 right out of his ass, the little bastard.
1999: They all tend to sound alike, you see, and hearing basically the same sound over and over ain’t the thrill at 31 that it is at 11.]]>