Wait, what is she talking about?

Watching my cat bathe herself after her evening meal is ridiculously hypnotic in the extreme.

It makes me wish that I had something similar in my life, in which I might partake after finishing a truly delectable dinner.

(As long as it didn’t actually entail cleaning the entirety of my body using only my mouth and tongue.)

Because I don’t think I would enjoy that very much.

Not very much at all.


Tonight I am feeling pretty knackered.

I arrived home from work a little late, because not only did I need to pick up toothpaste and soap from the Shopper’s Drug Mart at the Skytrain station, but because I walked up the (incredibly steep) hill to my home much slower than usual.


This was due to the fact that, along with my purchases, I was also carrying a pumpkin and two massive pieces of corning ware (leftover from the food I had made for my staff meeting earlier this morning.)

I was, in all senses of the term, THE BAG LADY.

The slow, tired Bag Lady.

It’s at a time like this that I fantasize about how awesome it would be to have a tram line that ran directly from my front door, to the station’s entrance.

Within thirty seconds or so after entering the house, I fell onto the couch.

There I sat for the next forty odd minutes, completing a couple of crosswords and eating Nutella with a spoon.

I haven’t done that in a long, long time.

After my “dinner” (HAH!) I threw on some shorts and a t-shirt, and ran my usual 4.5km route.

As the days are getting darker so much earlier, I’ve started playing silly games in my head like “As Long As There Is Still Some Orange In the Sky By The Time You Arrive Back Home, The Zombies Won’t Have Eaten You!”

So far, so good. I’ve managed to stay alive.

For serious though, these funny mind games are great motivators to keep moving as quickly as possible, because once the sun sets, I really do start to get the heebie jeebies when I’m out there alone.

Say what you want about thinking positive – I’m not entirely convinced that I won’t be attacked, dismembered, and sent to the Conservative party headquarters, if I start to take up night-time running on the regular.


Grim times.

Anywho, after I got back from my run, I tried to do some upper body strength exercises, but mostly I just chatted on the phone with my mum, cooked a pizza, and got ready for a stand-up comedy show.

Marc was awesome enough to come with me, and we drove in Vancouver together.

The show went awesomely – the crowd was on the small side, but everyone was really into the show. I got a number of really big laughs, especially off of some of my new material, which is always a great bonus.

It’s good to know when stuff is working!

Now I am sitting here, having just eaten a cupcake that I bought for fifty per cent off (thank you Safeway closing deals!) drinking some tea, and enjoying my new bathrobe.


This, like eating Nutella straight from the jar, is something that I have been missing in my life for far too long.


Debonair in my robe! (Or something like that.)

Because bathrobes – they matter.

Now folks, I realized this post really has no connecting moral, no story, or punch line.

(And for this, I apologize!)

But I can confidently bet, that there are many of you out there, who too feel a little ruddy and strained from a long day of work and play, and I just want you to know that I so completely understand.

I am here for you.

So just let me know what you need.

And I’ll do my best to make sure you get it.

Let me first just walk down this hill.