Time on Treadmill: 30 minutes.
Amount of sweat: I could wring a good couple of tablespoons out of my hair right now.

I love my cats, I do. We never intended to have five at a time, but that’s just how it worked out and I’m okay with it most of the time.

Today is not part of that time. I am hot and sweaty because in addition to a metric buttload of paperwork and my time with Chuck I 1) went out to three different stores to get padded envelopes and 22g copper wire, 2) went back out in 99°F temps to water the back yard flowers and shrubs, 3) vacuumed the living room/library/foyer, 4) shampooed part of the carpet after Ramón accidentally had a beer bottle overflow in his hand (to his credit he cleaned up the spill with paper towels and those sani-wipes, but I know from experience that beer is sticky and the carpet would soon become encrusted, hence hauling out the carpet cleaner), 5) made a double-sized batch of gyro meatball mix (which was a huge pain in the ass but totally worth it — those meatballs are the BOMB), 6) proceeded to fry/bake the meatballs, 7) learned that the pitas Ramón had brought home had no pocket inside them so decided to dish up dinner ala tapas, and 8) unloaded/loaded the dishwasher.

All this time, I had Jeremy (aka the Orange Lump) and Jasmine (aka Skitty Kitty) glued to my side, my ankles, my lap, or whatever body part they could reach. I did comb Jemma earlier, but that was willingly on both sides and got a buttload of fur off her so totally worth it. But trying to prep food and and cook it with a large orange cat meowing loudly at you and planting his furry ass where you need to walk is not fun. And when you sit down in a desperate attempt to cool off and a small, skittish grey tabby insists on climbing on your lap desk/arm, it is, let us say, annoying. So I am going to take a shower, eat a piece of some kind of cake Ramón brought home as a treat, and go to sleep early.

Without cats, mind you.