I wish I had more exciting news for you but my last few days have consisted of two things: work and keeping this cat alive.
Seriously, that is all I have been doing. This cat requires four different kinds of vitamins, all administered to her in different ways. Thankfully rubber gloves are not needed. That is where I draw the line. But I have never met a more well cared-for cat in my life. Granted, I have only been around one other (the aforementioned demon) and I am pretty sure he ate chocolate chip pancakes for dinner everyday.
Now that I have been with this cat for over a week, I can tell she has warmed up to me. So much so that she follows me around everywhere I go and is waiting for me when I get home. And even though I revolt against saying this with every fiber of my being, it can be nice to come home to a big house with a live being waiting for you. Granted, I would prefer this be a horse but I can't be too choosy in suburbia.
I have also noticed that I talk to her. A lot. This is beginning to scare me because I am pretty sure I am a muumu away from becoming a cat lady. I may call one of you and leave you on speaker phone just so I have an actual human to talk to; otherwise I am almost certain that by the end of my stay I will be convinced that she is actually talking back to me.
This does NOTHING for my dating life. Nothing.
However, I have decided that I need to draw the line somewhere: not allowing her anywhere near my bed, especially my pillows. I would rather sleep in a hut on the ground in Africa than lay my head in a bed of cat hair. True statement. I came to this realization the other night when I was completely dead to the world and she decided that this was the perfect moment to pounce on my legs and then sniff my face. Of course I sat straight up in bed thinking I had just been the victim of a hairy burglar and started swinging. After my heart rate returned to normal, I picked her up and gently threw her out of my room. It is really hard to go back to sleep after that. And unfortunately 4:00 a.m. is not my favorite time of the day.
So, there you have the play-by-play of my house-sitting existence. Try not to be overwhelmed by the excitement. And thankfully there are only three more days until her parents get home and her life and mine can return to normal.
In the meantime, I am going to the rodeo tonight to supplement my wish that she was a horse.
I couldn't agree with you more. I would take sleeping in a tiny bed with 2 other people in a hut in Africa (Tanzania to be more precise- an actual experience for me) with chickens walking around than sleep on a pillow with sick cat hair on it. Blah.
ReplyDeleteI echo the sentiment re: cat hair. You're my hero for taking on a cat. But I think you have Stockholm Syndrome...it's time to go. Just keep thinking, "I'm Jane Bauer. I have this situation under control. I will not be overtaken mentally by a cat. I will return CTU...I mean, suburbia, to normal, and then I will reunite with Kim...I mean, return to my house, and then I will finally grieve for Terri...I mean..."
ReplyDeleteMaybe you should just come watch 24 with me. Without the cat.
I love you,
The Seester