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Monday, Aug. 26, 2002 / 9:10 p.m. ~Third Entry - Writing As Catharsis - Feel Free To Skip This One~ I must have been holding a lot in. A few days ago I wondered how long since I last cried. Now I don't need to wonder. I went to the pet supply store, I talked to the big parrot, I wondered why he/she kept scratching behind his/her ear/head, I said "Hello" and "Are you okay?" and things like that. I glanced at the baby lizards and thought again how I want one. I bought a bag of the special expensive cat food and drove home looking up at the big black cloud in the sky, noticing the lightning off in the distance. It was slow moving, this storm. So slow it came and went and no rain fell. Nothing. But I came in and ate food from Taco Bell, and again I'm sorry I'm not boycotting the Taco Bell, but the food they serve is damned good, and it's cheap and it's FAST, it's the ultimate, for me. I ate quickly, thinking to hurry, I fed cats, I gave them treats, online to check email, and I heard Norman throwing up..... Thus it began. The changing of the plans. Two more movies at the fabulous FOX theatre this Summer, tonight "Men In Black II", Thursday that "Star Wars" clones thing. That's it. Could I make it? No, oh no, I was suddenly on my knees scrubbing the carpet, knowing I would never be able to get out the yellow stain from the partially digested special expensive cat food. And she went from spot to spot, heaving, hurling, poor little thing with the sensitive stomach. I put her in the bathroom finally, trying not to be mad at her, trying not to be mad at me, knowing this was it, time was passing, I was getting frustrated, I don't handle this situation well, the lack of control. It was beyond me, all that moving from place to place to throw up again and again, me with paper towels, running water on them, watching the sink fill up because of the permanent clog, hot with my work clothes still on, just wanting to check a thing or two online and head out to the movie. It became too late, and I began to cry, like a little kid, "I am going to miss the movie..... wahhhhhhh". And my throat constricted, and I cursed myself, my body, I wondered what is wrong with my throat, why is it I can never get it clear, I thought of my mother with her throat cancer, with her radiation treatments, her red lines drawn on her neck so they'd know where to blast her each time, the way she couldn't even swallow the tea she'd beg me to make for her, the shape of her body under her nightgown, her bones protruding, the sounds her coughs made, her throat clearing, her death from pneumonia, from cancer, from radiation. Convinced I have cancer. Convinced it will be in my throat. On my skin. It's there already. Or on my cervix. Or my ovaries. I am riddled with it already, it's only a matter of time. And I cried more. Harder. And I cursed myself again, I hated me more and more because now my eyes will swell and I have to be looked upon tomorrow, by too many people, people who will say, "Hmmmm.... she looks like she's been crying". Or not. Not. Because I am invisible. Do you think I'm depressed? So I missed the MIBII movie. I'll be okay. It will be on TBS, the Superstation, in a year or so. I can wait. But I wanted to see it at the FOX. You know? I fucked up. I want to blame it on Norman and her throwing up all over and the time it took me to clean it up, but then I'd have to blame it on me and the treats I fed her and Gladys after their dinner, but then I'd think that Gladys didn't throw hers up, and then I'd hate myself again for being mad at Norman because she is old, and she has a sensitive stomach and probably a big hairball that is trying to work its way up. I threw away the remaining bag of treats, even though they love them, those cats. Can you believe I can go on and on about hairballs and vomit and cleaning vomit and crying and being depressed and why on Earth would anyone want to read about all of that? Why can't I write about something else? Actually, this is my third entry of the day. They keep getting worse and worse, but clearly I need to let it out. I need writing as catharsis right now. So leave me alone. Just let me keep typing until I can type no longer. So another reason I didn't go is that I stopped to think about what I might wear tomorrow, the pivotal Do I Need To Do Laundry? moment and I realized holy fuck, I have nothing to wear to work tomorrow, so I had to do laundry. See? I had to stay home, but I wanted to go to the movie. So I was pissed, frustrated, disappointed, angry, sad, and ultimately for very many reasons.... depressed. And I squeezed salty fluid from my tear ducts. Is that one word or two? Tearducts. I am waiting on my clothes to dry now. And I am caught up on the BB3 live feed recaps. I had the feed on, live, but it was so annoying I had to turn it off. I want to fold my hot dry clothes when they are ready and go to bed. I want to start over, tomorrow. Tomorrow is not only another day, but tomorrow I'll be happy and gay. Not homosexual, but gay happy, gaily happy, gaily not depressed and miserable and self sabotaging. Tomorrow...... I don't know, no one does. What a lot of blather. Hooey even. Was there a point? I suppose not. Gladys is circling now. She does this starting at about 9:00 every night. I liken her to a shark. She circles me sitting here in this chair, and I have to shoo her away, tell her to stop making like a shark. Fin/tail held high in the air, circling, circling. Used to be I fed them at 11:00 at night. Then they decided 10:30 would be nice. Now I'm lucky if I make it to 10:00. They are joyous little animals, my neurotic felines. Just joyous and wondermous. Maybe I should take up TV again. Take it up, like a hobby. You know, flip from channel to channel, even when nothing is on, like I used to do. I used to do so many things, what happened? The Interweb happened, didn't it? Alright, really, I give up, I'm sorry you wasted your time here, anyone, really, I do so apologize, tomorrow will be so much better, you'll see. Cost of the War in Iraq
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