Dar Day!
Twelve hours later, and I’m still trying to shake off last night’s sleeping pill. It’s worth it though – I got my first full night’s sleep in what seems like a week last night. The morning is definitely running in slow motion right now though.
Tonight is the much anticipated Dar Williams concert. Front and center, peoples, front and center. If only you knew who I was talking about, you’d be eating your little hearts out in envy. Don’t worry, though. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow. I just hope I have enough stamina to hold up through the entire concert. It would be traumatic to find myself nodding off in the midst of hearing one of my favorite singers.
In honor of the occasion, I’ve put on a pair of real jeans. I always wear elastic waistband stuff anymore, to accommodate the weird bloating my poor misshapen body has assumed. That stuff makes me look pregnant and dumpy though, and I refuse to go to the concert looking pregnant and dumpy. I’ve even gotten complements at work today on how good I look, so I guess the discomfort is worth it. It’ll be back to the frumpy stretchables tomorrow.
The cats managed to con me out of a second lunch yesterday. When I got home the Socialist was out, and the cats were acting as if they’d undergone enforced starvation for the last month. I figured that meant that The Socialist had not yet fed them lunch, so left them all their measured manna iin their food bowls. Turns out that it was nothing more than a mass conspiracy. The O’Beast I’m not surprised at – he’s slick at pulling this kind of stunt. Cattitude is hardly above begging a second meal herself. But the Kitten is obviously learning from those two, and fine-tuning their methods. I’m convinced that the little grey dustball is undergoing some sort of final growth spurt. She’s starting to get some heft to her, and … well, frankly … she’s getting a fat ass. The extra weight isn’t slowing her down at all apparently. Unfortunate, that.