Anecdotal minutiae
Marie and I just got back from going to Pets Inc for "critters for the critters" (a medium rat and three dozen superworms), then to the grocery store for people food. She volunteered to go with me, and we gabbed and ooh'ed at the lizards and spiders and snakes, and impulse-bought food (at the grocery store) we didn't need. It's nice to have her back around the house again.
So right now the snake is writhing around on the floor of her vivarium, and the tail of the rat has just disappeared like a string of spaghetti into her mouth. A gape to re-hinge her jaw, and lunch is over. It's fascinating, in a totally gross kind of way.
I really had to push myself to stay on the elliptical this morning, and still only finished 35 minutes of my allotted 45-minute workout. I start negotiating with myself after about 20 minutes... "Okay, that's probably enough. Well, no, after the end of this song. Okay, the next song... five more minutes. Thirty minutes is long enough, right? Okay, dammit, thirty-five is close enough."
I appeased my guilt at shortening my workout by spending the next hour cleaning. I'm sure I killed more than enough calories that way.
Oz and Zoe are re-enacting WWII's Battle of the Bulge. Zoe is backed into the weight room and Oz is holding territory beyond the hallway. Volleys of hissing and spitting sail back and forth approximately every three minutes. In the end, Zoe will lose and go back to hide under the bed and sulk.
So right now the snake is writhing around on the floor of her vivarium, and the tail of the rat has just disappeared like a string of spaghetti into her mouth. A gape to re-hinge her jaw, and lunch is over. It's fascinating, in a totally gross kind of way.
I really had to push myself to stay on the elliptical this morning, and still only finished 35 minutes of my allotted 45-minute workout. I start negotiating with myself after about 20 minutes... "Okay, that's probably enough. Well, no, after the end of this song. Okay, the next song... five more minutes. Thirty minutes is long enough, right? Okay, dammit, thirty-five is close enough."
I appeased my guilt at shortening my workout by spending the next hour cleaning. I'm sure I killed more than enough calories that way.
Oz and Zoe are re-enacting WWII's Battle of the Bulge. Zoe is backed into the weight room and Oz is holding territory beyond the hallway. Volleys of hissing and spitting sail back and forth approximately every three minutes. In the end, Zoe will lose and go back to hide under the bed and sulk.
Labels: journal, Op:Goddess, pets
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