I have to keep reminding myself that I don’t have a cat anymore because I still unconsciously move around my apartment as if there were an invisible cat weaving between my feet. When I wake up, I look to see where she’s curled up so I don’t kick her when I swing my feet out of bed. I leave the bathroom door open just a tad so she doesn’t start meowing while I’m in the shower. I open cans of beans very quietly so she can’t hear (I think it’s mean to make her think I’m opening up tuna.) Every time I open a cabinet door, I expect her to run inside. When I leave the apartment, I open the door barely wide enough for me to fit though so she doesn’t sneak out. I look expectantly for her behind the door when I come home. I make sure not to throw my jacket on the bed so she doesn’t cover it with hair. When I first sit down at my desk I lean to one side to give her room to jump up on the chair. When I go to bed, I get into my sleeping position quickly because I only have about 5 seconds before she jumps up on the bed to find her spot.

Now, those five seconds pass, and then there’s nothing. It’s an incredibly lonely feeling.

My cat was my best friend. I love her and I will miss her.

A lot has been going on this week. First of all, I’m thinking of getting another cat. It’s possibly one more step towards owning Barbara Streisand CD’s and using moisturizer, but whatever. My current kitty needs a playmate because she’s totally out of control. She has to be touching me all the time. I don’t even get a break when I’m on the toilet, because she likes to curl up in my underwear when they’re around my ankles, like a hammock. When I try to shoo her away or ignore her, she starts knocking over garbage cans, and anything not bolted down will end up on the floor.

So I stopped by PetCo today and met someone that volunteers at the kitty shelter. I’m probably going to pick one up after I come back from my business trip. I like saying that, it sounds so professional. “My business trip.” Anyway, I’ll be in CA for a week at the end of this month organizing a Real Estate Investment Seminar. Should be fun.

For those of you who have been keeping up with all of my blogs, my married woman has been fired due to lack of production and poor work ethic. Maybe I forgot to mention she works with me. I wonder if I should invite her over to “console” her. It’s probably best to just let her fade away. I found out her husband works for the military doing some sort of secret stuff in some secret place. The last thing I need is to have him sneak into my house, ninja style, and Ginsu my wiener or something.

(UPDATE: Turns out her husband was in jail.)

Good news! I got my “new” couch yesterday. Thanks again to the “Fabulous Amy Donohue” for turning me on to craigslist. This thing is 10 times better than eBay in my opinion. On ebay, people list their items for  more than what you can buy it for online, then try to rip you off on the shipping fees. On craigslist, it’s like these people are all getting evicted and need money so bad, they just give crap away. “NEED WEED… MUST SELL DINETTE SET ASAP!”

The sorta bad news is I kinda put a tear in the new couch trying to get it into my apartment by myself. Stupid neighbors all stood around and watched me struggle, and didn’t even offer to help. Oh well… poop happens. The exciting news is I think I’m in love with the girl who bought my “old” couch. She’s quite the peach, the bee’s knees, and the cat’s meow all in one. Kinda like a cat, bee, peach burrito. Anyway if things go my way, I still may be able to get some use out of my old couch (if you know what I mean… wink wink nudge nudge).

Finally, here’s the update on my “Quest for Health”. I’m starting to lose confidence in my trainer guy. Although I’m sore (which is supposedly a sign of progress), my trainer doesn’t know how to spell bicycle or bicep. And that worries me. I’m embarrassed to even write how he spelled them: Bicecycle and bicept. I don’t think I’d care if he couldn’t spell microprocessor or something, but he’s a personal trainer. Bicycle and bicep?!?! C’mon!!

He also took my measurements and fat callipered me and told me my body mass consists of 75 percent fat. I know I’m a little chubby but I don’t think that’s even humanly possible unless of course I was half Pima Indian and half Tub of Crisco. When I questioned him about it, just said, “Dat’s what da computa say.” Well the computer also say that I should have 12 tablespoons of cream cheese and 5 cups of alfalfa sprouts as one of my meals. Of course he didn’t think there was anything wrong with that either since “da computa say it”. I couldn’t let that one slide by so I protested and forced him to change my diet plan to cottage cheese and a different vegetable with a bit more mass. Otherwise, I’d have to buy 70 packages of sprouts per week in order to meet my 35 cup requirement.

Anyway, other than the fact that my muscle-bound friend may be slightly illiterate, and could lack a little common sense, I think things are going ok. It’s hard to tell, because I’m not really losing any weight. They tell you that bullshit about how muscle weighs more than fat, but I think that’s a scam to keep you paying those gym dues. Meanwhile, there’s thousands of chunky butts out there using that line to explain to their friends why they haven’t lost any weight after a month at the gym. And you can bet your ass I’m going to be one of those people.

That’s all for me. Have a great weekend!