I've Hit Peak Lazy

I hit the apex of indolence yesterday. How so? Cake—ya know, my 10 year old cat who sleeps 15+ hours a day—came upstairs, clawed at the side of the mattress, looked up at me, turned around and walked toward the stairs. He then turned, faced me and, sweah ta gawd, tapped his toes and said “c’mon ya fat cow, get a move on. That elliptical ain’t gonna pump itself!” Such a clear communicator.

When your cat (fer fuck's sake) chastises you for overly indulging your languid nature, you know you've just gone way too far.

After I dragged my lazy ass downstairs, he suprervised me from his window perch while I ellipticated for 20 straight minutes. Yes, that doesn’t sound like much but, HEY, this is your favorite forever rehabbing human here. 20 solid minutes is nothing to get sniffy and condescending about. I also did some scrubbing in the rain room AND I scheduled my next round of outpatient physical therapy too (to work on my shit balance so I can transition from walker to cane).

SEE? I’m not a complete somnolent sloth! I really, actually and truly did more than just sitting in bed reading and snarfing cookies yesterday. HONEST!

No, Cake does not buy these painfully thin examples of activity either. He still thinks I'm a world class layabout. Today I will do better. I'll doodle on the kitchen walls (before Ten rips up the banjaxed flooring), take a walk, elliptical some more and start doing stretching exercises.

So there…