* I got a decent amount of sleep last night. This is a reason to rejoice. Another reason to rejoice is that this is a short week for me, and a five-day weekend to honor our past presidents. (No, not those.) I keep forgetting about our short week and each time I remember it’s a holiday in my brain all over again.
* I have some very exciting plans for this weekend, including a date night, cleaning out the garage (don’t be jealous), crossing another item off the Bloject 25, and something else, I can’t really remember…Oh yeah, seeing Anthony Bourdain!
* I’m going to ask Anthony (Bourdain) to sign my book and then see if he wants to move into a house on our street so we could be BFFs and make fun of Sandra Lee together. Then Anthony (Husband) will take our picture and I will most assuredly look dumb. I know this. Anthony (Bourdain) will look all snarky, like he’s about to say something awesome and I’ll be there next to him, my face awash with a silly grin, my expression saying I can haz cheezburger?
* Isobel went to the doctor today and the official diagnosis this time is… tonsillitis. After looking at the calendar I’ve realized she’s been sick since January 1st. The original illness (probably a virus) would appear to go away and then it would come back. There’s been maybe one or two days of normal health in there. Maybe. She’s been to the doctor four or five times, and I am so hoping that this latest round of antibiotics will be the last of it. Surprisingly, she’s playing and acting somewhat normally, as she has for the last month an a half, just much crankier and with a marked lack of appetite.
* We let her sleep in bed with us last night, and I was spared repeated kicks to the face as she was already asleep when I went to bed. Her head was turned toward me and I loved being so close to her in such a peaceful state. Also, I’m constantly paranoid about something happening during the night so my unreasonable fears were catered to and I slept easily.
* My cat Poppy is obsessed with the bathroom in our bedroom. It has all of her favorite things: the shower, the toilet, little rubber bands on the floor. We lock her in there without realizing it all the time because she never wants to leave. Anthony said he once noticed Poppy sitting in the shower, staring up at the shower head for nearly twenty minutes. I don’t know what it is about Poppy and Jupiter, or why they are like this, but they are unlike any cats I’ve ever had before. And that is saying something.