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Monday, May. 17, 2004 / 5:36 p.m. ~It Was a Day~ I don't think anything happened yesterday, and I'm guessing that's why I didn't write anything here. I imagine I sat on the sofa and watched "Guiding Light"s on tape, and there was a Letterman in there too (had to see "Ambuh" from "Survivah"), and I do remember watching the aught four version of "Helter Skelter", which was intriguing, mostly because it was kind of pretty bad. Sort of like bad movies that just draw you in and keep you there, like that. Today was a day, very slow, very not much to do all day. And so it became a personal challenge to find things to do, and I think I did rather nicely. It was quiet reinserting msyelf back into society. I'm not sure isolating myself on weekends is a good thing. It's odd to interact with real, live people after two days of 'holing up'. One woman cornered me in the bathroom, told me she just found out how old I am, "I didn't know you were 40!", "I'm 43", "I thought you were MY age!", "How old are you?", "24, I can't believe you're 43, you are NOT 43!", "Um, yes, I am, and yes, I look it, but hey, thank you, you just found out, huh? Wow. Yeah, I'm jowl-y and wrinkly, and yeah, oh yeah, but thank you, really, thank you, how nice" (and get an eye exam, sister, and soon!). Of course I came home at lunch, price of gas be damned, and first thing I saw upon entering the abode was a hairball, small and manageable, but apparently fresh, as the G-cat was pressed up against the sliding glass door, real unresponsive and I had to make sure she was still alive and stuff, but she's not crazy about throwing up (I know, who is?), and she acts all "I threw up, I am Soooooo sick" every time. So, cleaned that up, scooped up her voluminous excess urination from the litter, then washed my hands and ate a sandwich, then the other cat starts with the puking, and I go and clean that up (another hairball - yes, I do brush them, and yes, they do get Vaseline and/or Petromalt on their little paws, AND they eat special very expensive hairball preventive food, fat lot of good that does), and then I have to scoop poop from the box, and then more urine, and wheeeee, this was my lunch. Yes, it's better it all happened whilst I was home to clean it all up immediately, but still, cut me a break, will ya? I really need to break it to my cousin that I don't want to go across the country to see her in July. How in hell? I feel like she'll say yeah, rihgt, fine, and maybe sure too, but she'll seethe maybe, inside. I won't know, but I'll picture the seething. Or maybe just abject disappointment? I don't want to leave G-cat. I think she has the kidney failure/hyperthyroidism thing going on big time finally. I could be wrong. I don't see her groom anymore. And she is way restless, and she only wants to eat or drink or pee, or lie in her box. I want to engage her in some play later, just to see if she has any spunk at all. I'm saying I think she is deteriorating. But, I could be wrong. Still, I don't want to leave her. Not if this is all I have left to be with her. It's bad enough I've been at work all day every day five days a week. I'll never ever ever ever forget taking my old cat to the vet to board when the ex and I went to San Francisco, and finding out he died that very day (he had feline AIDS). After the fact, of course. And finding out via the cremation bill that arrived in our mail. Yeah, come home from a nice vacation, open the mail, what what? Cremation? No repeats of that. So, I've been thinking about death, and all the death that's happened close to me throughout my life, and I was tempted to draw up a list, or diagram, a flow chart at least, but it would be too much trouble. Suffice to say everyone has stayed pretty much alive, as far as I know, since my Pop died back in '90. Thusly, it's going to be hard when the girl can't go on and I have to do the euthanasia thing and come home empty handed, tell Norm her buddy is no more. I have no idea how I'll handle it, except life just always goes on. I knew this was coming. And, after all, I could be wrong. Cost of the War in Iraq
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