Mornings are always rough around here. When I was writing my zombie book, Somewhat Alive, all I really had to do was to imagine how I feel in the morning and then I knew exactly how to write the zombies. (#ownvoices)

Once I’ve had my coffee and the kids are safely off to school, then things get better. More relaxed and routine and less Urrhhhhh. That’s a zombie growl. In case you couldn’t tell. That’s how you spell it.

I like my routines. They help me stay focused and get lots of stuff done everyday and provide some structure that helps me to not spend all day playing Stardew Valley.

I like to tackle exercise as early as possible, because it’s really not my favorite part of the day and when you live in Florida and like to run outside, it only gets hotter the later you wait. It’s best to get it over with as early as you can.

But before we go for our run, I like to start with some indoor exercises. I call them my back exercises, because when I do them, my back doesn’t hurt. I miss my twenties, when I could do literally anything and nothing ever hurt. You know, I sprained my ankle the day I turned thirty and it’s all been downhill ever since.

But the exercises help, and it’s all pretty normal stuff—planks, sit-ups, stretches, etc.

So, this morning, I came into the living room to do my back exercises (#brave) and was about to lie down on the living room rug to start with sit-ups and there, right in the middle of my normal exercise place, was the biggest, grossest hairball you’ve ever seen.

Perhaps you’ve been lucky enough to never see a hairball. If so, I envy you. Because they are disgusting. I won’t describe it for you, because, trust me, you don’t want to know.

And in an entire house full of tile and vinyl planking and old carpet that no one cares about, my cat had to pick my rug. I love my rug, because it’s big and beautiful and has hidden Mickeys all over it. And if you were wondering, hidden Mickeys do not help hairballs blend in. They just don’t.

I was able to clean up the hairball and I don’t think it left a stain, but still. It’s the principle of the thing. Puke somewhere else, Cat.