Wednesday, 11 Nov 2009

-- I came back from running errands today to find the cats all snuggled up on the sofa. They always get along, but they don't really have much reason to get close until it starts getting cooler outside. Then they ramp up the cuteness. Beany is like a real-life Japanese cartoon, no? So happy!

-- Why does it take forever to build up endurance for running, but then if you, like, eat a leisurely breakfast and get to the gym five minutes later than usual, you've lost it all? I've also realized that the 'reward' for doing well during a run (while in the process of rebuilding endurance) is having to run even further the next time. Sounds like punishment to me! Clearly, I have a love-hate relationship with running. Except by 'love', I mean 'casual interest'.

-- Speaking of the gym, though, ever since I started going again, I've been sleeping an obscene number of hours every night. Obviously, I've just jinxed it, but it was nice while it lasted.

-- Since Beany's Cat-A-Wheel is currently stationed next to the end of the sofa, sometimes she sits inside and we play a game not unlike 'chicken'. I rest my chin on the arm of the couch and we stare at each other -- rather intensely -- until her pupils completely black out the irises of her eyes. That's always the point where I back away, because I know what happens when she goes all saucer-eyed, and I rather like having my face attached to the front of my head. In one piece.

-- One of my fingers is itchy. A lame thing to complain about, I know, but it itches! I've inspected it and can see no cause (apart from the constant scratching). I tried cortisone cream, to no avail, so I think the next step is a string that I'll tighten every day until the offending finger is no longer a concern. It's not like it's a thumb or pointer or anything.

-- One more cat story. They're not usually allowed in the bedrooms, but every so often I'll let them in when I wake up, so we can loll around and have a cuddle. I must have accidentally done this two days in a row, because every morning this week, Beany has been waiting expectantly outside my door when I open it. I haven't let her in, because I don't like to encourage pushiness, but I wish I could use her memory for useful things. I have a cup of coffee every morning; can't she learn to make it for me?