031 I Don't Have A Cat

Part 2

I wasn’t going to post this week.

Everything I have drafted is sitting in the Perfcetionist Pile where I fret over whether it’s clever enough, or witty enough, or enough enough, whether anyone cares, whether someone cares, whether I want to save stuff and try for some sort of essay type thing, whether it’s too long, too short, too too too. It’s nonsense.

There’s been a lot going on. Future planning. Underemployment. Losing two fillings due to grinding my teeth in my sleep. Achilles pain. Perimenopause hell. I have been sad, but that’s not a new experience. I was kind of holding it together. What else would I do?

The thing that broke the levee on my tears was the news that the parents of the The Cat That Isn’t Mine are moving. Only up the road a bit, but away nonetheless.

It might be that nothing actually changes. That they keep her outside, and she still wanders down to my place because she still doesn’t like spending time inside with them and they still think she’s an outdoor cat.

But it also might turn out that she likes the new place, likes spending time with her parents up there. I’ll have to get used to her not scratching on my door at 7am and 1am to be let in just to chill and play with me for the day.

I know it’s probably stupid to cry over a cat that isn’t mine, but we’ve had a journey together. One that went from fear to delicate trust, to steady friendship, to companions who slow blink at each other.

I’m going to miss the little beastie Bubba.

Picture captured moments after hearing the news.

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THIS WEEK:

Most listened to song: GERM by Kate Nash

Favourite thing I’ve watched: N/A

Favourite thing I’ve read: N/A

I’m most excited by: N/A