just keeping in touch

Should I brag about my progresses in Pilates classes and weight loss? Sounds boring. Just one line maybe. I love my trainer, she’s beautiful, smart, with a sense of humor, four stray dogs and two cats. You know how people develop emotional transfer for their therapist? Same here. I am so grateful for what she achieved… well, actually I achieved in such a brief time, that I truly love her. I can actually see in the mirror from one week to the next how my body morphs back into a human one, instead of the blob I became.

 

Wait, just another story, not exactly workout related, so not so boring. After one session, I was in the locker room with a lady. Just the two of us undressing back to back rather prude, when I noticed her dress, and I screamed like a hysterical groupie. It was a Moschino piece from a few collections back, that I loved. The lady froze, with her back against the wall, probably praying that I’m not some serial killer of a sort. I started explaining my sound until she was breathing regularly again.

MoschinoKittenDress

But moving on… During summer we had a free lance designer helping us. We were warned not to try bonding, talking or even staying too close to her. She was supposed to be Satan in a tiny frame with a doll face. Long story short, she made an exception, she likes me. She likes my writing too. And she comes to me with this promising speech that started with: “OMG, your writing is sooo good, you HAVE TO WRITE A BOOK.”

I answered rather flustered: “I don’t think I have anything interesting to say… anyway, not for an entire book.”

“Oh but your writing is so amazing, yet you’re an online copywriter. I mean… all you do all day is write ‘click here’. How can this fulfill you?!”

I tried to object feebly that this is NOT the only thing I do, but I caved.

 

In other news, I’m not getting out of character with a Joop story. I was away on a teambuilding for the weekend. Joop was so happy to see me on Sunday afternoon that she behaved like a loyal dog, licking my face and jumping around. Well, she’s the feline version of a Saint Bernard, so no surprise here.

 

The surprise was yesterday, when I started to climb up the stairs coming back from work. From the first floor, I could hear her voice yodeling. At first, I couldn’t believe my ears. She can actually identify my steps on the stairs. Only ALF was able to do that. So, overwhelmed with emotion, I started screaming in the building, to be heard through the door on the 3rd floor: “YESSS, MY LOVE, MOMMY’S COMING, BE PATIENT!!!”

Enough said.

cat

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About bitchwithcats

lived wild, lived wise, lived.

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