The Cat Who Wasn’t There*

On bike at gym.  It’s 3.25pm and I’m gazing out of the window at the blue sky.  Am sweating and uncomfortably warm, from the Zolodex.  It causes hot flushes apparently.

    “It’s the Nocebo Effect,” MadFatRunner says when I call her to grumble about being hot in the night.

    “The what?” I say, wiping my fevered brow.  “Suzie says I feel very warm and…”

    “The well-known effect whereby as soon as you read of the side effects of something, you develop them,” MadFatRunner says.

   “Is it even possible to develop side effects a few hours after the first dose?” I ask her.

    “Well we’re suggestible, aren’t we,” she says.

    “Hardly slept last night,” I say.  “Woke up in the middle of the night, sweating.  Couldn’t get back to sleep.”

     Washed my hair earlier and even put some serum in it.  It will be sweaty in a minute.  Ah well.  Can tie it up.  Am off to the theatre this evening.  Hope it won’t be too hot in there.  Am in the front row, so mustn’t fall asleep.

    This is a good time of day to be at the gym, I think.  It’s quiet and not busy: it was pandemonium here this morning.  New machines were arriving and the music thumped and there were too many people everywhere.  Now, it’s peaceful here.

Have attached a photo of the fluffy monster in a tree.  And why not.  Can’t wait to see him and cuddle him tomorrow.

Happy Thursday everyone!

*1992.  By Lilian Jackson Braun.  A Feline Whodunnit 

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