The second half of this week in particular has definitely been a swimming against the tide sort of struggle. I sit here surrounded by purring cats who I may or may not have fed twice this morning and I just don’t want to move. You know in Mary Poppins when they snap their fingers to straighten up the room? That’s feeling like too much effort right now. I dream about chores getting done and then wake to disappointment at all the wasted effort. I get excited about a project and then get bored or distracted halfway through. “I’m going to tackle [x] today!” I proudly proclaim, and then get overwhelmed at all that I need to do in order to complete the task.
Cats are jerks who eat your ear buds without unwrapping them from around your ipod or even taking the ipod out of your purse (how?!) and knock shit over all the time. But it turns out Zelda lets me wear her as a hat as well as as a scarf (living boa!) This is the most important discovery of the week.
My mother is a stranger, not at all the woman who raised me to puberty. Does a daughter’s “blossoming into womanhood” (blech!) signal extreme personality shift in all mothers? Does age breed entitlement? Does sacrificing for others lead to refusing to sacrifice for anyone?
At least Fitzy hasn’t eaten any condoms lately. I did find bits of carpet in his poo, though.