I've been working on my geology poster project, which may have triggered the migraine as I spent a lot of time bent over the dining room table (after removing pinball machine guts therefrom), fussing with its layout. It looks okay and I like the process of leaving it unglued so when I walk past I can fuss some more. But it's due tomorrow so my fussing needs to end, which it will tonight :)

Mittens is feeling awfully snuggly these past few days. He's been following me all over and as soon as a lap presents itself, he's curled up into it. At night he waits until I turn off my light, then jumps up and noses his way under the covers, then turns around so he can rest his chin on my shoulder. It's very sweet. I still think he's a dog. But lately, he's a lap dog.

In today's episode: parking at the gym.

Rob and I live down the street from Bally's Fitness Center. Every afternoon they have several classes of aerobics, weight training, tennis tournaments. Their parking lot is a good size, and there's even a lot behind it. So why do folks who go there, presumably to work on their health, feel compelled to park as close to the door of the gym as possible? This makes turning down the road occasionally hazardous, as folks line their cars along the street as close to the building entrance as can be, even though there are empty stalls in the parking lot. Last month, the city finally did something about this and marked off a section of the street as non-parkable. For the first couple of weeks, folks continued to park there, usually right under the no parking sign because it was positioned close to the building entrance. Now when I turn down our street, that stretch is car-free, but folks are still parking on the one bit that was left unmarked and that just makes me shake my head.

It's not that it rains constantly here and these folks must park close to stay dry. They're just plain lazy. No amount of exercise will cure that.