Death and Push Ups

So a little while back Shannon mentioned to me that she wants to work on getting healthier. "Great!" I said. "Skip the ice cream after supper today."

That didn't go over well. We all bandied suggestions around, and after some deliberation we decided as a family that we're all going to do 50 pushups a day, for a month. Today is day three.

I'd really rather not say how sore I am right now, and I haven't done my push ups yet today...in fact, I haven't done anything at all today except consume an inordinate amount of carbohydrates. I'm trying not to feel guilty about it but I must confess that the guilt is setting in. Which is a clear sign that it's time to open a bottle of wine.

Just kidding. Sort of.

See, in the dark hours of this morning, I got into the car to go to work like it was any old Tuesday. I pulled out of our driveway and onto the street, and I hadn't gone 50 feet before I drove past a cat on the road, lying dead in a pool of blood. It took about a second before I realized that it looked like our cat. My heart in my stomach, I did a crazy u-turn and parked the car amisdst irritated honks from the cars around me. I jumped out of the car to take a closer look at it, and sure enough it was our Sallah, who had been playfully head-butting me and tromping up and down my sleeping form only an hour before. The only coherent thought I've had all day is that a dead cat is oddly heavier than a live one...

Needless to say it's been a rough day. Every time I think about it I feel like I've been punched in the stomach. We were going to celebrate his birthday next week.

I gave myself permission to do some wallowing today, but tomorrow it's back to life as usual (except that no playful feline is going to come be a shithead at 5am just because he wants some company - sniff) which means that if I don't hit the deck and get some push ups done tonight I'm going to have a cool hundred to do tomorrow.  It also means that I'm going to have a hell of a food hangover and getting back on track will take some mental toughness, cause we all know what happens the day after we eat too much crap:

So you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to get my dratted push ups done, then I'm going to drink some wine while I get my meals prepared for tomorrow. Then I'm going to bed and tomorrow will be a better day. Gotta keep on truckin.