Stupid things.

Dear Diary,


So, I've apparently gained 10 lb. of weight? Plllttt. This is bad. This is very, very bad. This time last year, I was at 146 lb.. Now I'm at 156. Luckily, I never did completely finish getting my clothes tailored. They were somewhat loose, so they fit fine now.

I blame weight watchers, and their stupid new points plus program. I was doing well, and they changed it.
Stupid weight watchers.

(of course, I have slacked off my training seriously since early summer, but yes, let's blame weight watchers.)

I need to get moving. Since I can't do any log distance running for several weeks, I'm looking at the p90 exercise system. I may be modifying it as my ankle heals. I'm also planning to do some walking on the treadmill to see what I can do and how long I can do it.

Those are not, by the way, my hairy legs.

Why am I having these thoughts today? Because lots of people I know are running the Duke City Marathon now. RIGHT now. And me, I'm sitting here with my stupid ankle, I thought I might be able to pull it off and maybe do the half, but as soon as I thought that, the swelling went away. Turns out the swelling was keeping it from hurting. It also hid most of the bruising. My foot is bruised, on top, near the front, and my leg, all around, well above my ankle.  I can walk on it, but I can't touch it, it's tender.

Well, yesterday Sweet Baboo and some other guardsmen discovered a small, blind, female neonate. She's calico and at most four weeks old. I'm not sure how this scenario will turn out. She's completely blind, and I have a dog that thinks that everything small and furry is a chew toy.  She was in bad shape, barely moving when they found her, and refusing all food.  After wrestling with a tiny bottle (seriously, I put huge holes in this tiny nipple, but nothing will come out) I contacted DP, who is one cat away from being a genuine cat lady, who advised us.

Sweet Baboo started dipping his finger into kitty formula (yes, there is such a thing, available at the pet store) and smearing it on her muzzle.  She licked it off, and then eventually she started licking it off his finger.  When I came home, we got her to transition to lapping it from a small jar lid or a spoon.  Now she's climbing out of every box I try to put her in.

I carry her around the house in a favorite scarf that I have fashioned into a sling. She's very sweet.

My ankle is still stupid. And I still feel fat.

Stupid ankle. Stupid Weight Watchers.

Nice kitty.
...