Yesterday I was feeling particularly chubby so I got a haircut. What? A haircut? Yes, that is what I do when I’m feeling fat. I take the little bit of control I have over my weight and cut off as much hair as I can in hopes that the scale will cooperate. If it doesn’t that’s OK too; at least I look better. Oddly enough, the scale did not go down this morning.
What did go down was our power, again. We must live in a giant cesspool of perpetual electricity lossidness (yes, that’s a word in my world). Every time it rains during the night we lose power. Usually it’s only out for a few awkwardly quiet minutes and when I hear the fan come back on I get up and reset my alarm clock. However, this morning (at 2:00 AM) I was feeling particularly lazy so I didn’t bother getting up. The only thing that saved me from the consequences of this potentially poor decision was Norman, our giant cat.
It’s actually quite ironic that it was Norman who woke me up. He usually sleeps next to my face for a few hours and then retires downstairs where the rooms are cooler and there is less snoring. This week Norman and his sister Vera (those of you who watched Cheers might find these names mildly amusing) have been banished from downstairs for reasons that will remain unsaid. This means they have to spend all day and all night (which to them must feel like eternity) upstairs, usually hanging out on our bed. So, if the cats hadn’t been rotten Norman wouldn’t have been forced to sleep upstairs (mostly on my head) all night therefore waking me up on time (almost) to pronounce that he was, in deed, hungry for his regularly scheduled breakfast. What a blessing?