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The Bang Bang Theories

Who’s That Girl

A funny thing happened on the way to the gym tonight.

I actually went to the fucking gym.

Surprised myself even.  It’s the damn Agreements I’ve been making with myself. I agreed last night that I would stop in at Planet Fitness after work and do something, and then even though my body was crying out for pajamas and the telly, my mind said, “You made an agreement, a-hole, stop trying to wriggle out of your own damn decision,” and then I yelled at myself for calling me an a-hole because frankly that’s uncalled for.

In the end, the mind won out over the wants of the body, and then of course once I got there things in the body felt better, too, as I in my mind know they will.

I did some stuff. I rode the bike. I did some machines. I stretched around. Then I flounced out and headed for home at 7:15, which is one of the downfalls of stopping after work, now it’s quarter til nine at night and dinner is still cooking.

I’m making chicken soup because while I was on vacation, Winter arrived back home and now it’s damn cold and oh, guess what, I didn’t wear a jacket to work because much like my daddy’s irrational rationale who wouldn’t turn the heat on until November, I won’t put on a jacket until then. It’s a stubborn rule that makes zero sense, and lemme tell you, I was c-o-l-d on the way into & outta work, and then colder still after hitting the air with a little gym sweat on my skin.

When I’m sick next week, don’t blame the cruise, I washy-washy’ed my hands pee-lenty. It’s the Rule of the Coat that will do me in.

In other news, the cats have been rather misbehaved lately. We won’t go into all the details of their bad behaviors, because why, let’s just say that so far I’m counting it as an actual BLESSING that Kitty Purry hasn’t peed ON ME at night. Yet. I have kept her mashed down and nestled in my arms throughout the night to deter the thought that could flit across her cat-pee-brain.  But the bad behavior news is, if she WERE to pee on me, it wouldn’t be their collective worst behavior.

They are lucky, so so lucky they get to live here and I’m weak in the face of their cute faces.

Speaking of cute faces, there’s DJ putting the “sound” in sound asleep as he’s lying atop the soundbar, smack dab in front of the tv, but with an 80″ tv, it’s not much of an inconvenience. Except why here, DJ? Why not, he says, and then flips me the finger if he had fingers that is, in my imaginary conversation with him.

On that note, it’s dinner time, almost.  I’m going to think about which agreements I want to craft with myself for tomorrow because I have to put a lot of thought into them; apparently, I take me seriously at times.

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