Musings

I must apologize Dear Reader. I truly don't know what's gotten into me as of late, but for whatever reason, I just haven't felt like writing much the past while. It seems that when I get home, my brain is too tired or too restless, but never in that place in between that is conducive to putting things on a page.

Currently I can tell you that:

DAHYUM! I am hurting after my pilates class on Saturday. Still. Hurting. In my stomach. And sneezing a lot this week to boot. Greeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaat. My teacher says she is deliberately pushing me hard to get me to the next level. She's planning on making me use weights. WEIGHTS! Good God! But I like the idea of "the next level". I sometimes suspect she sees more potential in me than I see in myself right now.

My cats are happy as the Magic Bwankey of Prophecy has returned. The Marine cracked it out the other night. Don't ask me to explain it, but this comforter is the most snuggalicious, sleep inducing thing I've ever experienced. Before I met him, the Marine rescued the Magic Bwankey from the garbage, or a Goodwill run. I can't quite remember which, but suffice it to say that whoever got rid of this thing was a damn fool.

My niece Rosy has retired my father from living room soccer games and now has The Marine in regular play because "he's more funner." That's life in the pros Pop. Sorry.

I have been harbouring a dangerous obsession with Pepsi Cola lately. I never drink carbonated beverages other than club soda. All of a sudden, I can't get enough Pepsi. Perhaps I'm making up for a deprived youth. Perhaps I'm sugar addicted. Perhaps, it really does taste better than Coke.