Schedules Don't Work

My day is already all bunged up. I wanted to get up, go to the gym, and do a bunch of errands. But now I have to wait for my Mom to show up so I can wait for f00 to finish teaching his class so I can go to Mall*Wart and pick up some photos. Blargh.

My apartment is still freakishly clean and tidy, although the chinchilla's butts are doing their best to redecorate the floor. Yesterday, I picked up Princess Tubby and said, "Look! A peppermill!" I pretended to twist her head, knowing that black matter would soon issue from her butt.

I've no recollection of having ever made a New Year's resolution. I'd say I have no plans of ever doing so, but that would break my record.

...

After a few hours hiatus, my errands have been uck-fayed even more. Apparently, most everything is closed today despite it not being a holiday. What's with that? So rent and banking will have to wait. Even the bakery was closed, so I couldn't get bread. Ah well.

I was able to book the studio for my dance classes. They begin this Sunday. Advanced/intermediate class is 1:30-3, and beginners' class is from 3:30-5. It's upstairs from the Victory Meat Market on King St., Fredericton, in the T'ai Chi studio. Classes are $60 for six weeks, or $12/class for drop-ins. I'm also giving a private floorwork class this evening to a couple of out-of-town dancers. I'd better go and vacuum because the class is in my living room.

I may get to the gym yet, but I'm no longer counting on it.

Saving Garfield

On the way out to Mom's car, I heard a very loud meow. I stopped in my tracks and looked around. I couldn't see a cat anywhere, but the yowling was the sound of a cat in trouble. So I put my purse down and started searching and calling. I finally found the cat underneath the sidewalk/step. In the summertime, a cat can get in and out of there easily. But the snow and ice had filled up all the ways a cat might escape. A woeful orange cat stared up at me from a deep crevice. It was Garfield, the young cat from two houses down the road. "YOWWWWWWLLL!" screeched Garfield before ducking away.

Mom and I looked around to find a way where he could get out, but none was to be found. We called him back to the gap, hoping to grab him and yank him out, but Garfield doesn't like to be picked up and ran back beneath the concrete. So we went over to the garbage hut and found some cardboard. Mom rolled it up into a thick tube, then used my buck knife to carve ladder-like rungs into it. We propped it in the crevice at an angle where he'd be able to scramble up without much difficulty.

We drove off to do our errands. About an hour later we returned. We called and called, and the vocal Garfield didn't answer. I hope it means he already left.