Cool Running

It's kind of cold out here. Should I lock the door? Nah, GP's in there. He's fine. I don't want to have to carry a key. Maybe I should've worn a long-sleeve. I hope I'm reflective enough. It's going to be so nice to watch the sunrise as I go past the harbour, if I get that far. Ok. Let's start the stopwatch. 30 seconds running, 90 walking. Ugh, that's embarrassing. Oh well, gotta re-start somewhere. I hope the music works if the stopwatch is on at the same time. Oh good. Yes. Rolling Stones, Beast of Burden, perfect warm up song. Still cold out here. At least I can't see my breath. Fucking iPod headphones. I need to find my other ones that stay on better. It's nice out here. I hope I don't run into any weirdos. It fucking sucks that I have to think about that shit when I go out for a simple run. Solidarity, lady runners. An upbeat John Legend tune... I can deal with that! Is that a seagull? They're not so annoying as background noise. This isn't so bad. Glad I'm doing yoga with Heather tonight. I wish GP was a morning/outdoor running person. Fuck, my toe hurts. I wish Mike hadn't stepped on it when I was trying to teach him salsa. I hope my toenail doesn't come off. Pussycat Dolls! YES! Oh, damn, the file was corrupted. I'll have to download that song again. Enya? No, what was I thinking? Note to self: make a better playlist for running. Halfway here and I'm almost at the gangway at the Yacht Club. Not bad. I can't wait to see where I am next time! Time to turn around. Shit, out of batteries? One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine..........................................Thirty. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight nine.............................................Ninety. Spine long. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine..........................................Thirty. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight nine.............................................Ninety. Shoulders down. Hands loose. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine..........................................Thirty. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight nine.............................................Ninety. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine..........................................Thirty. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight nine.............................................Ninety. I guess I'll walk the rest of the way for a cool-down. I'm so lucky to live here. Hi, kitty! It's kind of hot inside.

Capably Coping with Choir, Coworkers, and Cats

I have been busy lately. GP and I are in the market for a house, the cat has been as ravenous as ever (I started a Twitter account just to document the crazy shit she eats) and I've been to two weddings. Plants and flowers are growing in the garden and on the windowsill, work is pummeling forward at a break-neck pace, my taxes are now more than a week overdue and I am finding myself happily overwhelmed with it all.

Last week I got a cold. It occurred to me that every year in the spring time I get a cold. Not allergies, but a vicious cold. A couple years ago it was pneumonia and before that it was scarlet fever. I guess that's my body's way of saying "stop doing so goddamn much" and I rarely listen. Ok, self, you have my attention; I'm listening now.

GP and I are going to visit his grandmother who is celebrating her 90th birthday this year. She is a wonderful woman who I doubt has ever said anything mean in her life. Clearly we have a lot in common (heh). I wonder if she ever gets overwwhelmed now. I don't think so, somehow. I think if there are too many things going on, she has the wisdom to know that the storm is bound to blow over sometime. Do you think that's the secret to life? I'm not sure, but it's working for me right now!

Good Grief

I've debated whether or not I should plague my readership (however small it may be) with what is undoubtedly the most difficult thing, emotionally, I've had to struggle with in my short life. I have decided that I definitely should. It is my blog, after all. And you don't have to read this post (although I think you should, because everything I write is gold, naturally).

Friskies has been my friend and confidante since I was 10 years old. Although I was the one who got to choose her rather unfortunate name, I never personally took it upon myself to claim her as my cat. She, however, took it upon herself to claim my bed as hers and so our relationship grew. She watched (actually, maybe napped is the better verb here) while I awkwardly made my way through middle school, high school, and puberty in general. When I came home from university she was always there, ready to provide cuddles and gentle indifference. She got kicked out of the room the first couple times I kissed a boy, and she dutifully stood guard at the door until she was welcomed back. Soon after a somewhat resentful chirp and some annoyingly slow stretching and chin-rubbing on the threshold of the door, she would reliably be right back in her middle-of-the-bed station, purring as though she were part 1969 Ford Mustang, muffler-free.
The only time I've had to deal with anything bad happening to her was when she was six or seven and she had to have a small operation to remedy a bladder issue. Now I have to deal with something of a more sinister nature. She has become increasingly rotund through the middle and bonier in the shoulders and hindquarters. Not long ago her appetite started dropping off, so I made an appointment with the vet. I took her in on Thursday and, after having x-rays done, I was told that there was a mass of some kind in her abdomen. It could be either a tumor on her spleen that has just become very large or a tumor that has formed around her intestines, making digesting food difficult. The former possibility is what we are hoping for, because spleens are superfluous organs for cats. The latter is, in most cases, inoperable. Either way, she is in pain. We won't know exactly what the problem is until an ultrasound is done. Hopefully that will be tomorrow.

So this situation is, understandably I think, the only thing I have been thinking about since Thursday. I've had a bit of time to mull it over and get used to the idea of her not being around anymore, although that is obviously the last thing I want. She has been my friend for so very long and I have been so lucky to have her in my life. In fact, we've been friends for most of my life. Normally not a particularly sentimental person, I am surprised by how many things trigger an emotional breakdown for me. On Friday at work before my shift, I was reaching into the cupboard for a mug. A co-worker came into the kitchen and said "Hi, how are you?" and I burst into tears. He was completely stunned and said, after a pause "Can't find a cup?". I then exploded the whole cat story onto him and he stood there, very kindly, listening to me, likely thinking "Wow, that new girl sure is a fruit loop". I doubt he'll ever ask me how I am again!

Friskies has an ultrasound tentatively scheduled for tomorrow, although I haven't a confirmation heard from the vet's office. She is barely eating anything and today I had to actually place her in her litterbox for a pee because her energy is so low that I was afraid she might not make it. She is definitely not herself. It's a very sad thing to witness, the slow decline of one of your best friends. I don't give a fuck if people think I'm crazy for calling her my best friend. They obviously, and unfortunately, have never had the incredible experience of becoming close with an animal. It sucks that I have to make these kinds of decisions now, and deal with this overwhelming sadness, but if this is the payment I have to make for the unconditional love I have received from her throughout her entire life, I think it's more than worth it.
Please, friends, keep positive thoughts for Friskies in your mind. If you're the praying type, I'm sure she'd appreciate that too.