Was back at the gym last night. Slept in today to repair. I actually oversleep on the weekends, but that can't be bad. Before waking, though, my dreams start to degrade and become dull and monotonous and bothersome. (I've thought maybe I'm exhausting the oxygen in the room at that point.)
Had a coffee across the street, then walked up to B.'s place of business. I wanted to give B. the article about the owner of Trixie's, who was recently found dead (after his partner died last year). B. and I used to go there occasionally.
We had a nice conversation -- about 15 minutes. He seems to be doing well. He said his doctor told him that, whatever he's been doing, to keep doing it, since his health is good. He said yesterday was his sister's birthday, and they threw a party for her at his new home and stayed up till 5 a.m. (glad I wasn't around for that). Talked about Bootsy and Lady Gaga on Ellen (he hadn't seen it, since he's at work at that time), work, Lucky, the gastroenterologist, etc.
I'm not going to worry about his situation anymore, but I'll stop by to see him if I feel like it. If things are as rosy as he paints them to be, then the BF shouldn't have anything to worry about. Of course, B. could have been on some kind of drugs just now. (The BF knows how to dose him. After all, he'd a been a doctor in Cuba--he'd told me so himself.) (The BF before me did the same thing.)
Enough! Cleaned out the cat boxes.
Speaking of cats, my friend in Canada sent me this. It goes on a bit long but makes the point. I was supposed to give Bootsy some pills a couple of months ago, but he refused to take them. He wouldn't even eat the food I mixed the pulverized pill into. When I wrapped him up in a towel and tried to put one in his mouth, he refused to unclench his jaws. If I'd have pushed it, he would have attacked me. He was at that point. So I just gave up. The pills would have been gone by now, anyway, and he seems just fine. I think they were antibiotics.