The 21st of March.
Sleepy again but in a different way to yesterday. I went back to the gym so my body is pooped.
It took what seemed like my entire morning to write up my blog post today. It was slightly longer than usual but not ridiculously so, but I did also get a little bit distracted when I went to see Monica because she was doing sad mews at the door. I need to take some photos of her for the Cats Protection website – all the ones of her I have are against the carpet and I’ve been told that’s not a good background.
After lunch, I made my return to the gym. Jess was surprised to see me come up the stairs – I didn’t feel spectacular at the top but it was better than waiting for the lift in the cold. I did all the things fairly well and everything was dandy until the chest press, when who should walk past but No Pants Man? In the exact same trousers as last time and I just can’t be having that. If it were normal, I’d be able to see the penis of every man in the gym and that is not the case. I pointed him out to Jess and she said she’d see if one of the guys could have a word. Pants next time please.
Tonight I’m on my own because Daddy has a work do so both parents are out at that. Microwave paella for me!
The 22nd of March.
You know, you wake up in the morning and turn on the tv, expecting to see Lorraine gabbing away with some chap about pretty dresses, but the news is still on because some horrible bastards have blown themselves up and taken innocent people with them. There’s nothing I can say about it that would have any meaning. Social media has been inspiring and disappointing. People trying to use the tragedy for their own agenda. I’m just sad.
I managed to get some photos of Monica on the blanket so I’ve sent those off to Lisa who does the Cats Protection website and database, and I’ll need to send her an update on Thursday because Shaki snd I are taking Monica for her second set of vaccinations, so we can consult the vet as to whether she still needs to be an indoor cat.
Jamie came round to get a key for his house because he didn’t have one for the new lock, and he wanted to meet Monica so we went and had a chat in her room. While we were in there, Sadie, one of our neighbours, rang the doorbell and let us know that Joan who used to live next door died last night. In a way it’s better – her dementia had become quite severe and she wasn’t the Joan we knew anymore. More sad.
Lastly, I’m in huge amounts of pain. All my muscles hurt post-gym and I’m hobbling like an old woman. I hope it’s better tomorrow; I’ve got to walk up the church in front of loads of people! I’d like to not look ridiculous.