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bear by san

March 2017

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phil ochs troubador

i had not become a cephalopod. i still had legs and arms.

Stayed up late last night writing another thousand words on "The Unicorn Evils," which puts my workdcount for yesterday at a more-than-respectable 3200, which feels like accomplishment.

And now I am blowing off yoga class, under the tanaise-originated "World so cruel, bed so warm" protocol, with my own "cats so snuggly" amendment. Also, much of the midpoint of last night was a wash on the sleeping front, thanks to my endocrine system (I almost got up at 3:45 AM out of boredom but gutted it out and managed to eventually get back to sleep around five. I mean, if I had gotten up, I would have been super-prodictive already, but at what cost?

Anyway: cat drugs appear to be working (No wonder they give this stuff to neurotic housewives; stops 'em pissing in the corners) as I have now actuallly witnessed the Complain Department using the litterbox often enough to bribe her shamelessly every time she does so. (The cat who does not like cat treats--ANY cat treats--totally flips her lid for Greenies. I dunno what is in those things. Maybe diazepam.)

Of course, this means the Kjitten also gets bribed when the CD uses the litterbox, because we believe in a cultish application of peer pressure around here, and also he can hear me open the bag.

Anyway, I should probably get out from under these cats and feed them (because apparently I am the only Food Ape (tm autopope and feorag) around here who can actually remember to put food in the bowls of a morning*) and let the dog out and feed him, and then get to work--as apparently we** are not going to yoga class this week, and I am seriously okay with that. In fact, I might be seriously okay with not leaving the house at all today, although I should get to the gym and lift weights and run... unless I decide to go climbing tonight just for the hell of it.

*Well, it does mean I have a fuzzy organic alarm clock or two.

**and by we we mean I

Comments

"we** are not going to yoga class this week, and I am seriously okay with that."

Amanda Palmer calls those "noga" days.
http://dresdendollsdiary.blogspot.com/2007/04/art-of-noga.html

Here in IL, it is 2 F without the windchill, -13 with, and I would seriously be ok with not leaving the house, but alas, I have to anyway.
Ooof. Yeah, it's COLD in the center of a continent....
Ah, yoga. In this house, yoga is cat-centred. Whether I like it or not. They will help. (Also with the marquis' tai bo, which is riskier from their pov.)
Yes. Dogs also like to help with yoga.
I bet the GRD does downward dog beautifully.
Yes.
Ahh, yes. “Your pose should be ‘Warrior III petting the fluffy belly’, as in this one right here!*flop*
It is. It's a hard life.

But, you know. better living through chemistry. *g*

I suspect opiates

Kachiko doesn't like treats, but I have to hide the Greenies in another room behind a door with a handle. Thankfully Shiro isn't quite so wild for them, as he has figured out how doors work.

Re: I suspect opiates

They are kitty crack. I tell you what.

Re: I suspect opiates

We keep the greenies in the Tupperware containers that our Maine Coons have yet to figure out how to open; we keep those to hand in case a cat scratches on the cat tree, which regularly merits a reward and spares the rest of the furniture.
Every time I see Greenies in the pet supply store, I do a double take, because "greenies" are what amphetamines get called in baseball. One of our dear former players made me laugh and love him by saying, "Everybody's all on about the problems with steroids and nobody even talks about the greenies!" Uh. Except now you do, Torii, and I'm sure management loves you for it.

Anyway I do not want Ista on those!
Poodle on Uppers! the horror movie sensation of 2010.
Somebody else (see userpic) can here the Greenies bag open from wherever he is in the house, often resulting in a rapid application of Flying Feline(tm) to my body as I prepare the morning bribery.
The resident feline, normally rather aloof, tries to convince me every time I leave and return to his sight that it's A Whole New Day! as far as his Greenie alotment goes. It hasn't worked yet, but he's ever hopeful. He has never shown the slightest interest in any other form of treat. This is a cat who hasn't even shown any interest in cheese, chicken, ham, or beef! He adores tuna, but otherwise people food is a mystery that remains beyond his ken.