Leila left a mortifying message on my mother-in-law's answering machine yesterday. I don't even want to repeat it. It was better than the one she wanted to leave, but I told her, if she did, she'd be in bigger trouble than she'd ever been in in her life.
Did I tell you I've been going to the gym? Twice this week, and I have an appointment with a trainer tomorrow. Not to break a sweat, or get thin, or impress anyone, just to regain some strength; OK, gain some strength (since regain indicates that there was strength there in the first place) in my core. I don't really know what my core is, but I'll find out tomorrow. I'm back on the eliptical, too: eight whole minutes today! I'm back, people, BACK!
I found a couple of fleas on Perry over the last few days. Its sickening. I had a hard time sleeping, and I just feel like I have creepy crawlies all over me. The flea stuff that I put between his shoulder blades shouldn't have worn off yet, so I'm not quite sure what to do. I've had cats for twelve years, and they never had fleas until last year when we had it bad. It wasn't too hard to get rid of, just tedious, but its so gross. I ordered new flea stuff on line, and it says that it kills adult fleas and larvae. I don't even really want to pet my dog knowing he might have larvae on him. Bleh! Poor thing. He needs another bath, but Rob and I are in disagreement about this. He thinks we bathe him too much, and that's why he's itchy, and I think he needs a bath precisely because he's itchy. He's got me over a barrel, too, since I still can't kneel or crouch, so I can't bathe him myself unless I go to the bathe-your-own-dog place that charges $15 to use their special sinks. I think that's outrageous. Yes, we live in a drought state, yes rents are high, but really? $15? Damn my small sink, and my sucky water pressure.
Alright, that's about all I have today. I found out from the husband of one of my readers that she thinks my life is "fascinating." I am at a loss as to how anyone could find any of this remotely fascinating, since I call myself "Bored Housewife" and I sometimes find myself looking out the window while I'm typing because I am bored by what I'm typing. I'll try to come up with something interesting tomorrow. I have to go out and actually do something interesting, and then I'll write about it. I'm sure I can squeeze some laughs out my training session at the gym. Tell me: do I go ahead and wear the elastic-waistband-fat-pants and just own it, or do I try to look more gymmy? See you tomorrow!