Cat and mouse

I'm a personal trainer, to my cat, that is.

Her little tubby figure has definitely slimmed down since the regular drag-the-mouse-on-the-wand-around exercise sessions. Problem is, she now attempts to instigate the night time session right around the time I'm ready for bed. Yes, instigates; walks up to me at the desk, stares, vocalises, takes up position on the cat climbing tree, waits, tries again if I don't respond immediately. That makes me more of a slave than a personal trainer, I fear. S'fine. S'for a good cause.

I won't complain about the dreary day, it pales in comparison to some of the stuff happening in the world. Scary. Something blipping has done (and it's not really blip's fault) is that there now are all these individuals and families in other parts of the country and the world whose welfare is of concern, people who I had no idea even existed two years ago. Not a bad thing but it makes watching news even more worrisome.