The Saga of Sadie and Socks: Fidget Edition... (and also new job!)
This morning, Fidget and I were in the kitchen, trying to get a grocery list together. Both cats were with us. Our kitchen was comically crowded.
Fidget: "Tuna fish. Bread. We need straight noodles."
Jess: *diligently writing things on the list*
Fidget: "And I'm not sure if you'll need to go to Home Depot for this, but..."
Jess: "Home Depot?"
Fidget: "Yeah, I think we have a cat problem."
Jess: "A cat problem?"
Socks: .oO(Humans are still not feeding me human food. This is irritating.)
Sadie: .oO(I love being in the kitchen! TILE IS FUN!)
Fidget: "Yes, we have too many cats. I know the ants bother you, but the cats bother me, so if you can get a spray or a cat trap or something-"
Jess: "They don't sell cat traps at Home Depot. And we don't have too many cats."
Fidget: "We have two. And I know that's how you get more cats."
Jess: "They're fixed. We can't get more cats from them!"
Fidget: "Look, I've seen Jurassic Park and I know how this works..."
Socks: .oO(Still not feeding me human food. I am bored by this.)
Sadie: .oO(TILE!)
Fidget walks away to go upstairs. Socks takes off to the upstairs bathroom. Fidget laments, "C'mon, asshole."
Jess, still downstairs, looking up: "What happened?"
Fidget: "I come up here to take a shower, and now HE'S in here. He's just like you. 'Look what he's got.'"
Jess: "Well, what is he doing?"
Fidget: "Looking at himself in the mirror. Do I have to leave the door cracked or something now?"
Jess: "Just get him out of there."
Fidget gingerly picks up Socks and puts him outside the door. Socks has spread his paws wide as if he's about to fly.
Jess: "Now that wasn't so hard, right?"
Fidget: *grumble grumble* *shuts door*
Socks: *grumble grumble* *walks into bedroom*
Sadie: WHAT HAPPENED? TILE WAS SO COOL!
Jess: *laughs and continues to make buttermilk for pancakes*
=====
I'm sitting here with a cup of sleepy time tea, trying to mentally prepare for tomorrow. My orientation is for tomorrow morning with the new job. I've completed the handwritten application and re-signed my offer letter. I have my coffee cup sitting out, I know I'm going to drink a smoothie, and in theory, I look like I know what I'm doing.
Part of me is filled with trepidation. After how the Starship went down, and then how the Kangaroo Hut treated me, I'm sufficiently two-for-two on this job thing. I know that the Volcano Harbor has been around awhile (just like the Starship was) and that they're established (!!!) and everything. I know we finally figured out what my issue was.
I know, I know, I know.
I'm sure I'll be friendly enough. I'm bringing my work bag with a notebook and Lord knows I have pens. I'll be attentive and present. And they're providing Panera!
I'm not sure if this will be my forever job, but at least it's a.) good money that b.) aligns with my career. I feel as though we've been through such a horrible two years that there is a lot riding on this.
I know, I know, I know.
I just really don't want my heart to be broken again. And I know I still carry some hate and pain from both the Starship and Kangaroo Hut. But I want to be bright-eyed and excited, instead of standoffish because it'll fold again. That I won't get attached because they won't care in a year. Or that our bills won't finally balance out. Or the bus won't work. Or Fidget and I won't be happy again. Or this is our normal and we'll never not be normal again.
There's a lot riding on this simple orientation, where I'm sure we're going to talk about paid leave and sexual harassment.
I'll drink my sleepy time tea and take a much-needed shower. Then I'll plan out what I'm wearing tomorrow. And I'll go to sleep, excited because it's like the first day of school all over again.
First day of school; maybe I should think of it like that. When I was younger, I didn't care about if the school would be there in a year, or even if people would like me (typically, they didn't). I was excited to go back and learn, to meet the new teachers, to learn the new curriculum, and to figure out how I would excel that year.
So, I'll do that. I'll try to reframe myself. I'll finish my tea and take my lukewarm shower, thinking of all the things I'll learn tomorrow, all the people I'll meet soon. I'll have new experiences. And maybe in three months, we'll even out a bit, and finally, I'll move further up that hierarchy to be a more whole person...
... drinking this tea is my first step to climbing back up that hierarchy.
Fidget: "Tuna fish. Bread. We need straight noodles."
Jess: *diligently writing things on the list*
Fidget: "And I'm not sure if you'll need to go to Home Depot for this, but..."
Jess: "Home Depot?"
Fidget: "Yeah, I think we have a cat problem."
Jess: "A cat problem?"
Socks: .oO(Humans are still not feeding me human food. This is irritating.)
Sadie: .oO(I love being in the kitchen! TILE IS FUN!)
Fidget: "Yes, we have too many cats. I know the ants bother you, but the cats bother me, so if you can get a spray or a cat trap or something-"
Jess: "They don't sell cat traps at Home Depot. And we don't have too many cats."
Fidget: "We have two. And I know that's how you get more cats."
Jess: "They're fixed. We can't get more cats from them!"
Fidget: "Look, I've seen Jurassic Park and I know how this works..."
Socks: .oO(Still not feeding me human food. I am bored by this.)
Sadie: .oO(TILE!)
Fidget walks away to go upstairs. Socks takes off to the upstairs bathroom. Fidget laments, "C'mon, asshole."
Jess, still downstairs, looking up: "What happened?"
Fidget: "I come up here to take a shower, and now HE'S in here. He's just like you. 'Look what he's got.'"
Jess: "Well, what is he doing?"
Fidget: "Looking at himself in the mirror. Do I have to leave the door cracked or something now?"
Jess: "Just get him out of there."
Fidget gingerly picks up Socks and puts him outside the door. Socks has spread his paws wide as if he's about to fly.
Jess: "Now that wasn't so hard, right?"
Fidget: *grumble grumble* *shuts door*
Socks: *grumble grumble* *walks into bedroom*
Sadie: WHAT HAPPENED? TILE WAS SO COOL!
Jess: *laughs and continues to make buttermilk for pancakes*
=====
I'm sitting here with a cup of sleepy time tea, trying to mentally prepare for tomorrow. My orientation is for tomorrow morning with the new job. I've completed the handwritten application and re-signed my offer letter. I have my coffee cup sitting out, I know I'm going to drink a smoothie, and in theory, I look like I know what I'm doing.
Part of me is filled with trepidation. After how the Starship went down, and then how the Kangaroo Hut treated me, I'm sufficiently two-for-two on this job thing. I know that the Volcano Harbor has been around awhile (just like the Starship was) and that they're established (!!!) and everything. I know we finally figured out what my issue was.
I know, I know, I know.
I'm sure I'll be friendly enough. I'm bringing my work bag with a notebook and Lord knows I have pens. I'll be attentive and present. And they're providing Panera!
I'm not sure if this will be my forever job, but at least it's a.) good money that b.) aligns with my career. I feel as though we've been through such a horrible two years that there is a lot riding on this.
I know, I know, I know.
I just really don't want my heart to be broken again. And I know I still carry some hate and pain from both the Starship and Kangaroo Hut. But I want to be bright-eyed and excited, instead of standoffish because it'll fold again. That I won't get attached because they won't care in a year. Or that our bills won't finally balance out. Or the bus won't work. Or Fidget and I won't be happy again. Or this is our normal and we'll never not be normal again.
There's a lot riding on this simple orientation, where I'm sure we're going to talk about paid leave and sexual harassment.
I'll drink my sleepy time tea and take a much-needed shower. Then I'll plan out what I'm wearing tomorrow. And I'll go to sleep, excited because it's like the first day of school all over again.
First day of school; maybe I should think of it like that. When I was younger, I didn't care about if the school would be there in a year, or even if people would like me (typically, they didn't). I was excited to go back and learn, to meet the new teachers, to learn the new curriculum, and to figure out how I would excel that year.
So, I'll do that. I'll try to reframe myself. I'll finish my tea and take my lukewarm shower, thinking of all the things I'll learn tomorrow, all the people I'll meet soon. I'll have new experiences. And maybe in three months, we'll even out a bit, and finally, I'll move further up that hierarchy to be a more whole person...
... drinking this tea is my first step to climbing back up that hierarchy.