Kel (ladyjoust) wrote,

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Y'know how I often have nightmares that I'm running late whenever I teach the 8 a.m. kickboxing class? The good news is, I didn't have that nightmare. The bad news is, I woke up at 7:25. My brain couldn't quite grasp what day it was. "Monday?" it suggested. "Maybe?" After a few minutes, realization set in and I was out of bed and pulling on whatever athletic-type undergarments were nearest to hand. I finished dressing in under a minute, brushed teeth/washed face/tried to make hair look a bit less slept-upon, grabbed my bag and my water and a small slice of bread with some cheese and ran to the car, untied shoelaces trailing behind me.

I made it in time, but my brain was all tumbly and any thoughts of kickboxing were still snuggled up in bed with the kitties. Class was all right, I suppose, but I totally pulled it out of my posterior. That wouldn't be so bad if Trish, the awesomely buff and fit and hardcore instructor, hadn't stayed to take class. yeesh. As penance for running late and teaching a less than awesome class, and also because I keep yipping about how doughy I've become and I really need to shut up and do something about it, I stayed to take the 9:15.

An hour later, I ran my errands, no doubt offending all and sundry with my sweatiness and my pretty pretty scent, and then took myself home to a very snuggly Handsome Tom. The swing is now completely his, but he's kind enough to share. I flopped down on my back, one hand behind my head, and Tom climbed up onto my torso. Head snuggled just beneath my neck, he flopped on one side and stretched himself down the length of my body and commenced purring. After about ten minutes, he fell asleep. Adorable.

And I had plans to bake and do laundry and garden, but I took a half hour nap and then cleaned and organized at about the same rate of progress I established yesterday. Now to make a slacker dinner (salad and Boboli, though I am poaching chicken and also sauteeing some red onion until it's all lovely and caramelized in the hopes dinner looks far fancier than it really is. I'm a tricksy one, I am.) and get a bit of writing in before the (non-feline) man o' the house comes home.
Tags: handsome tom, kickboxing, lazy kel
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