The cat next door has decided to adopt me. I generally like cats, and I'm happy for the company, but this cat is going to be the death of me. Literally.
Gracie is the kind of cat who, apparently, can't walk in a straight line. I think she would be an excellent slalom skier, if only she would try to avoid my feet instead of running underneath them every time I take a step. I can't walk anywhere without either stepping on her ("Mrroooowwwrr!") or shoving her out of the way with my legs ("Hissss!"). Walking up and down the stairs during the past week has been consistently fraught with peril.
I wish her owner would just hurry up and remember who he is already (another story--ask me about it) so I can go back to worrying about tripping over inanimate objects instead of furry, moving speed bumps.
I turned 30 not too long ago. I'm not freaking out about it, really; it's not much different from being 29. But I feel like I should reflect, take stock, something. It's been a hard year or so for me, and I have been thinking a lot recently about myself, my goals, my fuckups, my progress in life, my patterns, my relationships with other people. I'm trying to take the long view of things--how things that are shitty now will eventually turn out to be positive. Like being single for the first time in a decade (I wasn't with the same person the whole time, but, as my friend says, I'm a "serial monogamist," a label that is entirely accurate, unfortunately, but I'm trying to change that). It will turn out to be a good thing for me (or so the rational part of my brain says), but, for now, it's hard to be alone. Not just without a boyfriend, but generally alone. Which is, I suppose, what you get when you build your life and friendships around someone else. When that relationship ends, well, you're kind of fucked. The rug gets pulled out from under you, you get bone-deep bruises that feel like they'll never heal, and you're sitting there, stunned, looking ridiculous, and no one's there to help you back up. So you have to do it yourself, pick yourself up, muddle through somehow, try not to beat yourself up too much, try not to make the same mistakes, and just get on with life.
I've been thinking about what I want from my life, professionally and personally and everything else, and I realize that I don't really know. I try to imagine what my ideal life would be like, and I just...can't. I've spent so long thinking about others and how my life fits into their dreams, I don't know what my own are anymore. This is a very sad thing, and it's something I need to fix. Soon.
Meanwhile, all I can do is get through each day and remind myself that I'm a lot better off than I was a year ago. That's not really enough for the long term, but it'll do for right now.