The BeGRatitude
Mark hates when people are shown others less fortunate than they and told to feel grateful. He sees it as feeling happy that someone else is worse.
--You don't like your shoes? Well, some people don't have feet!
I had a thought as I was drifting off into a nap: what if those people think, "I don't have feet, but at least I don't have to buy shoes!"
Which just goes to show you that you can be (un)grateful in whatever situation you are in.
Earlier this week, after a morning of schoolwork (and my nap), Mark and I went to the gym and worked on our butts. Or at least he did, since he sat and rode a stationary bike; I worked off my butt, since I did the treadmill and stairclimber. [Hahaha, I'm soooo clever]
When we came back home, I noticed as we walked up to our door that the apartment across from us reeked of turpentine, and made the entry reek too. And as soon as Mark opened the door, we found out that it made our apartment smell like a chemical plant. I couldn't stand more than 30 seconds in there, so Mark decided to take us downtown and check out an exhibit at the public library. The Guardians of Sunda Strait. WWII naval battle in Indonesia. Mark is a military history nerd.
We also got dinner while out there, because I was hungry and that's what you do around 5pm.
Around 7pm, we tried returning to our apartment. Mark unlocked the door, and I immediately walked away.
Still turpentine-y.
He opened windows and put fans out; I grabbed a chocolate muffin from the kitchen and retreated to the patio.
To each his own.
Surprisingly, Ruby the cat did not act fumigated despite being in the area most affected by the stench. We left her there and retreated to the bedroom, where the fumes were not as strong.
I actually left Mark and ran away to our neighbor's apartment (not the empty one. The one with our friends) for an hour or so to breathe less stinky air. Although since I hadn't showered after exercising, I probably brought some kind of smell into their apartment. [sorry guys]
Then Mark sent me a text that Ruby, in full view of Mark, had deliberately peed on the couch. That would be the second time in the last week.
Uh-oh. Ruby is really burning through Mark's good graces.
When I got back, it still smelled, but now there was a baking soda/vinegar/ammonia quality to it.
I told Mark, "Think of the homeless people who don't have cats!"
Yeah, he didn't appreciate that.
--You don't like your shoes? Well, some people don't have feet!
I had a thought as I was drifting off into a nap: what if those people think, "I don't have feet, but at least I don't have to buy shoes!"
Which just goes to show you that you can be (un)grateful in whatever situation you are in.
Earlier this week, after a morning of schoolwork (and my nap), Mark and I went to the gym and worked on our butts. Or at least he did, since he sat and rode a stationary bike; I worked off my butt, since I did the treadmill and stairclimber. [Hahaha, I'm soooo clever]
When we came back home, I noticed as we walked up to our door that the apartment across from us reeked of turpentine, and made the entry reek too. And as soon as Mark opened the door, we found out that it made our apartment smell like a chemical plant. I couldn't stand more than 30 seconds in there, so Mark decided to take us downtown and check out an exhibit at the public library. The Guardians of Sunda Strait. WWII naval battle in Indonesia. Mark is a military history nerd.
We also got dinner while out there, because I was hungry and that's what you do around 5pm.
Around 7pm, we tried returning to our apartment. Mark unlocked the door, and I immediately walked away.
Still turpentine-y.
He opened windows and put fans out; I grabbed a chocolate muffin from the kitchen and retreated to the patio.
To each his own.
Surprisingly, Ruby the cat did not act fumigated despite being in the area most affected by the stench. We left her there and retreated to the bedroom, where the fumes were not as strong.
 |
| Just sitting by the open windows for a fresh breeze. |
Then Mark sent me a text that Ruby, in full view of Mark, had deliberately peed on the couch. That would be the second time in the last week.
Uh-oh. Ruby is really burning through Mark's good graces.
When I got back, it still smelled, but now there was a baking soda/vinegar/ammonia quality to it.
I told Mark, "Think of the homeless people who don't have cats!"
Yeah, he didn't appreciate that.
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