Okay, it's really a rant, sort of.

I envy the cats, all four of them.

I went to Curves today to beat the you-know-what out of my muscles, and see
Roxie, a natural athlete, jump with effortless ease onto the highest shelf
in the house, with less exertion than it takes me to open a carton of milk.
And she's thin.

I go to work and get the you-know-what beat out of me by my new boss,  Scott
Hitler Jr., who takes a sick satisfaction in giving me hell because I insist
on wearing natural fibres. And I come home and see Stosh, who doesn't take
crap from anyone, and for whom every waking moment is playtime. He has the
remarkable ability to cram a day's enjoyment into a single minute, and
throws himself into play with anything he can get his little paws on.

Every day i am forced to be friendly to people who talk trash to me, and I
come home to Brandy, the friendliest of all the babies. How does she DO it?
I envy her. Nothing bothers her. She is just charming and buddies up to one
and all. By the end of a night on the phones I want to answer a call with
"Thank you for calling my bank, you yutz, and what the #@%# do you want
now?" And since I can't say it, I get stressed. So how does Brandy do it?

And since Louie is always getting me up early while he sleeps in (and I have
to go to work later than he) I envy Odessa her beauty rest. No one can sleep
with such talent. Sleeping Beauty, the dear little girl. She will stretch
herself out in a way that makes sleep look as delectable and sinful as a
romantic rendez-vous in a forbidden place. I just want to sleep in! And I'm
so flipping tired that I'm sitting here bitching about cat envy. No wonder I
go to a shrink.

Blessed be,
Baha

--

Three thousand years ago,
cats were deified in ancient Egypt.
To this day, they have not forgotten.