Friday, Aug. 15, 2003
Dear Diary:

Last night I worked myself into such a tizzy over having a little chat with my trainer at the gym that I was seriously considering 4 x 6 note cards with the major points I wanted to make.

Yes, my people skills are that finely honed.

So I got what I wanted to say all blocked out, (and can I just say here that you, my Three Loyal Readers, gave me excellent advice both in the comments and via e-mail) and spent a fair bit of my drive down to the gym kind of rehearsing.

I hate confrontation, even something as mild as this. My mouth was a bit dry, my heart racing and my palms were sweaty when I opened the door into the gym. I walked over to the sign-in counter and There Was Another Trainer There.

My trainer didn't show up.

There I was, half dead from my tizzy and suddenly I didn't know whether to be ticked off that she wasn't there or relieved that I didn't have to go through with the situation. THEN it hit me that now I have all freaking weekend to stew about this.

I will probably die from tizzy-related complications over the weekend. I hope you will remember me fondly.

Speaking of health matters, we took the new cats to our vet's for a check-up and their shots. Oh, I know, technically we still have a week's probation to go, but these two have me completely whipped.

If we ever had a fire, as it stands now I would run into the burning house to save Zubby, Norma and Enid, go back in again for the photo albums and if the conditions were right after that, I'd consider going in for the spousal unit.

Priorities. You have to choose your priorities.

During the vet visit Norma was a model of kitty good temper, a small tabby mound of placidness. Nothing but nothing bothered her.

Enid, well I think Enid speaks for us all when she tried to attach herself to the ceiling by her claws after the vet inserted a small glass probe in the uh other place they can put a thermometer when they want to take your temperature and don't want you biting said small glass probe.

It was an exciting few minutes. It was also the point where we knew she had bonded to us as we have bonded to her because as much as she wanted to get away, she did not use either her claws or her teeth on us. She did try to rip a hunk out of the vet, though, but the vet is a young woman with great reflexes and used to the ways of cats. No blood was shed.

Both cats were given a clean bill of health, although it was recommended that Norma either be put on a diet or encouraged to exercise more. For a brief moment I contemplated the image of Norma and I heading to my gym in matching leotards, sneakers and t-shirts, her on the treadmill, me on the elliptical machine.

I think we can all agree that really, the words "rich inner life" hardly begin to cover it. There are moments when even I am taken aback by my own middle-aged woman eccentricity. I figure I'm about three days away from the all purple, all sweat suit wardrobe and the house packed with 5,431 cats.

Poor spousal unit.

--Marn

Mileage on the Marnometer: 382.11 miles (614.9 kilometers) Ten percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck. Half way smoochTen percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck.
Goal for 2003: 500 miles - 804.5 kilometers

Going Nowhere Collaboration

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Want to delve into my sordid past?
She's mellllllllllllllting - Wednesday, Feb. 15, 2012 - Back off, Buble - Monday, Dec. 19, 2011 - Dispersed - Monday, Nov. 28, 2011 - Nothing comes for free - Monday, Nov. 21, 2011 - None of her business - Friday, Nov. 04, 2011 -


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