Today in the car, Lindsey said I could be an idiot sometimes, and I said, So can you, babe.
And, god. I know we were both right. But, today, I have proven the greater idiot. And, right now, I’m wondering how I can keep writing this when all I really want to do is hug my cat and see a therapist. We’re adults now. I mean it. By we, I guess I mean me and I’m just trying to clutch anyone or anything in this time where I am free falling or some other cliche.
So, here I am.
Wondering how I’ll pay rent next month when the job oppurtunity I was pretty sure was “in the bag” seems to have fizzled into something I can no longer touch. Wondering if it’s ok to let my girlfriend buy the groceries this time. Wondering if I’ll ever feel less heavy than I do right now. Wondering why I just idiotically singed my bangs on the stove burner.
Today, I went to work after saying goodbye to my best friend. We had coffee, something I probably shouldn’t spent money on but hey, I haven’t had Starbucks in like two weeks. My friend, Natalie, and I discussed how we need to talk more. We promised to keep each other accountable and use the US Postal service better.
After work, I saw the cat I rescued a few weeks ago dart into traffic. I had kicked him out after a particularly stressful morning when the shower upstairs began leaking through the downstairs ceiling. He was mewling frantically around my ankles. I couldn’t take it anymore. I ran down the stairs, threw open the door and said, it’s me or the wild, kid. Take your pick. And he chose the wild. I thought I’d never see him again.
Lindsey and I freaked when we saw him in the road. We pulled over, ran after him. I screamed his name, purred, clicked, and seriously doubted myself as a human being. Also, I was still feeling less than good about my skills as a cat mom. Just when I’d about given up looking for him, Lindsey came running, said there was a dead cat body in the road, black like mine.
I haven’t seen a dead pet since my dog daisy was hit by a car.
The eyes of that cat popped out onto the sidewalk, an afro of red circling his head. I almost puked into my hand. I was sobbing, shaking my head, sure it wasn’t him. Crying out his name. And then, we found him: under a truck, soaking wet and scared.
So, now I am a cat mom again.
but I have yet to buy this sweater
From here, does it get better? Right? That’s the question I should be asking. But, really, all I want to know is, does the cat still love me? And, will I ever get that dead cat body out of my head?
Sometimes the scariest things are the ones that seem unimportant. Sure, I need a job, I need to pay rent, I need groceries. I don’t really need the added expense of a cat. But, I feel like I’m doing the right thing. Even if I’ve been an idiot today. Even if this is idiotic. I saved something. And, that’s important to me.