Belly Whore

Yes, I have one at my house.  Simcha, who is the youngest of my three cats, is, simply put, a belly whore.  You know what I mean.  You are walking through the house and all of a sudden a white belly appears, begging to be rubbed.  He'll lay for hours in that position, eyes small slits, in anticipation of the rubbies to come.  He loves to have his tummy rubbed and it is a pretty tummy, all pure white, clean and sleek.  I could wax poetic about said belly but will move on to my morning.

Mister Financial Guy, or the simply the Wolf, is coming over for a breakfast meeting,  just to talk and stay in touch.  We were going out but I need to be near home to get some packages.  Mickey D's is the order of the day.  After he leaves I have two lessons to prepare for and maybe make a pasta salad for a dinner party tomorrow.  And not just any pasta salad: orzo, yellow and red tomatoes, garbanzos and a wine vinegar dressing.  I love to cook.  I'll make something exotic for dinner tonight.  Sounds like a veggie night.  Maybe make a cucumber salad as it is supposed to be warm and muggy the next few days.  Something cool sounds nice and I will do this all before noon.  Whew.  Glad I have the day off.  Some day off...busy,  busy busy.

Okay, the belly whore is calling.  More later.