on measures of peace where you can find them
i know i despair of him all the time for his kittenish antics (but for the love of god, plastic is not to be eaten no matter what tasty thing it encased and retains the residue of, cat, how many times), but i think my cat knows me better than most of my close friends and acquaintances do.
for instance. last saturday my dad told me that my grandfather is almost definitely going to die in the next week. this has my concentration absolutely shot. i know there's nothing to be done for it - it's a waiting game now. still, i've been distracted, kind of moody, and super impulsive. example: as soon as i heard the news, i called a friend of mine who lives an hour away from me and asked if i could stay the night at her place, just because i couldn't stand the idea of being in my apartment. i almost didn't bother to get directions from her, either. not because i forgot, but because i kind of wanted to just drive until i got somewhere. luckily better sense prevailed (my sense of direction is less than stellar, and i have a finite gas tank, of course) and i spent the next eighteen hours in a determinedly mindless state of caprice. i didn't think about my grandfather at all. (also i almost forgot my father's birthday, whoops.) but as soon as i got back to my apartment i withdrew again. i didn't really interact much with my roommates and retreated to my room. i've been here ever since, when i'm not in school: just sort of hiding myself away and waiting for that phone call - dreading it - hating it.
my cat, though, is having none of my nonsense. he (dare i say it? i do) dogs my footsteps everywhere i go and constantly demands my attention, moreso than he's done in a long while. he's got jasper, after all, and the two of them play together so much that sometimes i don't see tempest for hours on end. but suddenly in the last three days, my boy is all over me. i really think he can sense my anxiety, and he's trying to make me focus on him so i'm not focusing on my grandfather. if i sit in one spot for a prolonged amount of time, he clambers into my lap and sprawls all fifteen inches of himself, nose to tailtip, across me so i can't move even if i want to. he gives me this look, too; this little "good, now quit worrying and LUV MEH PLZ" look, and i have no choice but to obey.
any time but now, i'd be seriously annoyed at his persistent bids for my attention - i have schoolwork, you know, and sometimes i want to be in no-kitty-zone, and hey, sometimes i have to pee, and so having a seven-pound furball hanging off of you gets old pretty quickly. but now... now i need something to hold close, someone to talk to even in the privacy of my room, who won't judge me for crying just a little and getting the pillow damp. plus, yanno, tempest is just freaking adorable. i can't stay mad at him even when he chews on my computer cord, because i feel like he's doing it for my own good.
just now, i was listening to john barrowman's rendition of "i won't send roses." you know, the one that goes in me you'll find things like guts and nerve, but not the kind things that you deserve...i won't send roses, and roses suit you so. and tempest crept across my knees and turned his tiny kitten face up to mine, eyes wide, and mewled, just once, like he was saying, "i'd send you roses, mama."
and you know, i think he would. i really, really do.
for instance. last saturday my dad told me that my grandfather is almost definitely going to die in the next week. this has my concentration absolutely shot. i know there's nothing to be done for it - it's a waiting game now. still, i've been distracted, kind of moody, and super impulsive. example: as soon as i heard the news, i called a friend of mine who lives an hour away from me and asked if i could stay the night at her place, just because i couldn't stand the idea of being in my apartment. i almost didn't bother to get directions from her, either. not because i forgot, but because i kind of wanted to just drive until i got somewhere. luckily better sense prevailed (my sense of direction is less than stellar, and i have a finite gas tank, of course) and i spent the next eighteen hours in a determinedly mindless state of caprice. i didn't think about my grandfather at all. (also i almost forgot my father's birthday, whoops.) but as soon as i got back to my apartment i withdrew again. i didn't really interact much with my roommates and retreated to my room. i've been here ever since, when i'm not in school: just sort of hiding myself away and waiting for that phone call - dreading it - hating it.
my cat, though, is having none of my nonsense. he (dare i say it? i do) dogs my footsteps everywhere i go and constantly demands my attention, moreso than he's done in a long while. he's got jasper, after all, and the two of them play together so much that sometimes i don't see tempest for hours on end. but suddenly in the last three days, my boy is all over me. i really think he can sense my anxiety, and he's trying to make me focus on him so i'm not focusing on my grandfather. if i sit in one spot for a prolonged amount of time, he clambers into my lap and sprawls all fifteen inches of himself, nose to tailtip, across me so i can't move even if i want to. he gives me this look, too; this little "good, now quit worrying and LUV MEH PLZ" look, and i have no choice but to obey.
any time but now, i'd be seriously annoyed at his persistent bids for my attention - i have schoolwork, you know, and sometimes i want to be in no-kitty-zone, and hey, sometimes i have to pee, and so having a seven-pound furball hanging off of you gets old pretty quickly. but now... now i need something to hold close, someone to talk to even in the privacy of my room, who won't judge me for crying just a little and getting the pillow damp. plus, yanno, tempest is just freaking adorable. i can't stay mad at him even when he chews on my computer cord, because i feel like he's doing it for my own good.
just now, i was listening to john barrowman's rendition of "i won't send roses." you know, the one that goes in me you'll find things like guts and nerve, but not the kind things that you deserve...i won't send roses, and roses suit you so. and tempest crept across my knees and turned his tiny kitten face up to mine, eyes wide, and mewled, just once, like he was saying, "i'd send you roses, mama."
and you know, i think he would. i really, really do.