The quest for happy imperfection…

So, admittedly, I haven’t really gotten around to working on any of my goals today. Yep. I’m lazy. I still haven’t been grocery shopping since I got back from Missouri (which was a great trip- and it actually made me want to eat healthy! Four whole days without a single non-casseroled or cheese topped veggie can make ‘most anyone crave a salad). And, my gym membership doesn’t start until next week. Now, I know, I could exercise outside. Could. But, I live in a town without street lights or sidewalks, and it’s dark by the time I get home. Before I go to work, it’s cold. Like, freezing cold. And I don’t throw that term around lightly- it’s actually cold enough to turn water into ice. And I don’t want any part of that.

But, I did organize my pantry/closet of doom. So I was moving around for a good hour and a half, which is certainly an improvement over my normal couch-ridden status. There’s something to be said about a good cleaning. As a self-professed clutter magnet, there’s a certain joy in knowing that you have dominated the mass. For now.  I made a nice little place for the trampoline in there too. Not because I don’t plan on using it, but because I’m too embarassed for anyone to see the silver and orange monstrosity that continues to taunt me mercilessly.

I did make “progress” on one of my goals though. Last night I did take a bubble bath. Normally, I would use the phrase “relaxing bubble bath.” Notice I did NOT use the word relaxing. That’s right, because I almost died. Let me set the scene. I go into the bathroom, light a couple of candles, and start running some nice hot water. Then, it dawns on me that I don’t have any bubblebath, so I start rummaging through my cabinets for some extra shower gel or something of the sort. Mind you, this cabinet faces away from the bathroom door, and I’m in a rather vulnerable pre-bath state. Then *BAM* the bathroom door flies open and my husband comes barging in yelling “STOPP!!” I damned near fell out the bathroom window. To which he responds “oh, did I scare you?” Um, yes! That was one way to get the ole heart rate up! Well he goes on in his hurried state telling me that I’m needed for a rescue mission and that we have a POW situation on our hands. In my post-heart attack state, this isn’t sinking in. Until my husband grabs a broom and runs downstairs, yelling for me to get the bucket. Crap.

That’s right, the cats had staged a war on the rodent population, and we had our first battle. So here I am, supposed to be taking a relaxing bubble bath, and instead, I am chasing a cat and frenzied mouse through my house in my cute robe and houseslippers. Let me tell you, when you have more than one cat, this turns into a sick and twisted game of keep away. As soon as you catch the ball-carrier, she drops it, and it’s immediately swooped up by another team member- who continues carrying it on towards the end zone. It was like a full on rugby match, that finally ended when I caught the gray one and held her upside down until she finally, begrudgingly, dropped her pray into DH’s hands. Better him than me. At this point, he was instructed to dispose of the corpse, and stay away from the bathroom under penalty of death.

Tonight I’ve rigged up an intricate barricade system, and have a roll of duct tape on hand for any man, cat, or rodent that makes it through. Wish them luck- I won’t need it. Operation bubble bath- take 2 is about to commence.