Workout,...party of 1

I genuinely hate it when I start to love a song. 
Sounds contradictory, but its at that very moment that I am compelled to play the stupid thing over...and over....and over...until my ears are practically bleeding.  Never mind the arthritis that has set in from hitting replay.  There I am stuck in 4 minutes and 38 seconds of sick euphoria and loving/hating every moment of it.
Just last week I did my entire cardio session to 2 songs.  TWO.  At some point a voice should come over my ipod, curse at me, and wish me deaf if I don't find another song. 
I get it.
Oh but its like a moth to a flame...

Workout today was hard.
Not that I miss Garrett's slow-jam-make-out-remix while I'm sucking wind and busting spandex, but lifting alone while he was laid up on the PT table watching reruns of Home Improvement was not optimal for either one of us.  He had minor surgery on Friday, and cannot lift for about 3 weeks.  So there we were...I was loosing my religion on leg extension and he's watching J.T.T. in his glory days.
Pretty sure everything with a vagina had a crush on that kid in 1997....highlight of my 14 year old life.  Sad, and yet true.

Good day at work...but...
It always amazes me when people cheat right in front of me. 
For those of you who come to me, I CAN SEE THE TREADMILL NUMBERS FROM THE DESK.  My vision is pretty much like Superman, so stop changing the speed and incline like you're about to pass out...you're not.  You're not bleeding.  You're not vomiting.  You're fine. 
Between changing the numbers and holding on due to pure laziness, I would owe one particular client an apology for the judo chop I was about to give her hands in mid-stride. 
I swear its as if some people think being uncomfortable is the HIV virus of the gym.  They fear it, don't want it, and will avoid it at all cost.
It baffles me.

I am drained.
45 minutes of extra sleep tonight is going to be amazing, and yet there is a good chance Oscar will climb on my face at 4:15 because he is hungry.
I have little sympathy for him right now.
He left a trail of vomit upstairs that I had to clean up when I got home.  It was warm.  Its at moments like that when I am fully aware that power/authority within the food chain mean nothing to a 15 pound feline with no concept of portion control.
Needless to say, he's one carpet stain from a diet and an outdoor fieldtrip.