Exercising every day is hard work. I want a magic pill.
Cool weather has arrived, and soon I’ll have to pry the cat out of my lap with a crowbar whenever I want to stand. For now he’s driving me up the wall by being under my feet every minute. He doesn’t want to go out, because it’s cold. He’s antsy. He’s bored. He wants someone to entertain him. He’s as bad as the darn kids.
I was clearing off the stuff on top of the refrigerator. I don’t know how long it’s been up there, because being less than six feet tall, I can’t see the top of the refrigerator. I thought I’d put them in a cupboard; opened the cupboard and it was full of cookbooks. A lightbulb came on over my head—why do I have all these cookbooks? I hate cooking! Out they went, save a couple that I actually have referred to in the last year.