I’ll protect you

I have never written the words, to keep this little piece of magic inside my head for just a little bit longer.

When the words find their way out, the past will finally be where it is, never to return to the living,

I want to hold the memory close for just a little longer.

I want to keep the sun in my mind, and pretend that I’ll never have to relive that feeling when the plane hit the runway.

I’ll protect you, don’t you worry.

I love my cat

I could literally leave this post at just that.  I love my cat, she’s better than all pets on earth, no arguing.

On Christmas Day 2014, I decided that I wanted to spend the next day at shelters, just looking at cats (THIS IS NEVER A GOOD IDEA). I didn’t plan on adopting one that day (ha!).

Our first stop was a smaller shelter about 20 miles away.  I had looked online at the cats they had rescued, and there was an adorable little orange kitten that I wanted to name Henry or Alfred.  My sister’s attention was drawn to a little gray fluffball named Haddie.

The second I got there I bee lined for the little orange cat.  He was asleep, and had 0 interest in me.  I wandered over to where my sister was playing with the little gray cat. She immediately started licking my hand.  I asked if we could take her out of the cage as she was basically trying to break out at that point.

We took her into a playroom and she immediately climbed on my shirt and started licking my face.  She was mine.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t allowed to adopt her that day.  My landlord hadn’t called back to confirm that I was permitted to have a pet in her house.  I was told I could come back the next morning and adopt her then.

The shelter opened at noon the next day, and I was in the parking lot waiting at 11:45.  My landlord never called.  I left her six voicemails.  The shelter saw my desperation as a pesky four year started inching closer to her cage.  They said they would move forward as long as my landlord called by the end of the day.  I packed her up that night and made the drive back to DC from Pennsylvania with my little sidekick by my side.

Until that day, I didn’t know what it meant to have something to look forward to when I got home.  No matter how bad my day was, I knew that I would have my adorable little gray kitty waiting to snuggle and give kisses as soon as I got home.  To be honest, I wasn’t even sure that I could love a living thing that much.  Trouble sleeping?  No problem, she turns herself into big spoon and puts her paws on your back to keep you relaxed.

Not a day goes by that I don’t thank God for this little snuggle monster that has been, by far, the biggest blessing I’ve ever had in my life.

 

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The Perils of Being a Millennial

Let me preface this by I am not a single female and that I try really hard not to read those corny Facebook posts about why being a single mom is so hard or how the nanny killed a newborn by not paying attention to it (please do not waste your time reading those articles because you will wish you had lit you eyeballs on fire after).

Yet of course today I clicked on one that was about how being married is so incredibly difficult. There’s projects on the house to work on, there are disagreements, there are days of hatred between significant others.  It IS hard.

My problem with the post was it shamed women that wanted to be married and have children because they are looking for it for the wrong reasons, the dress, the adorable baby, etc.

I CANNOT PHYSICALLY HANDLE THE PAIN IN MY CHEST CAUSED BY THE STUPIDITY OF PEOPLE COMMENTING ON THESE POSTS AND ENCOURAGING IT.

“Then stop reading”.  But I can’t.  It’s like a Kate Spade surprise sale sending you emails every six hours reminding you that everything is 75% off.

We shame people.  We analyze everything thing we do and decide to write posts about.

Yes you should be married, no you should be single, you should be a stay at home mom, working mothers give their kids more value, these people are liberal snowflakes, these people are white supremacists.

We can’t take it anymore!  Someone make it stop!  We’re overloaded with opinions every single day, day in and day out and we cannot possible care anymore.  But we’re taught that technology=power, and so we keep getting sucked in, reading bigoted comment after bigoted comment.

I am sad.  Truly sad that we feed into this non stop, judgmental cluster fuck every day.  And that I continue to read them.

2017 Part 2

I’ve always been one of those annoying New Year’s resolution skeptics who says “why put it off until the first of the year if you can start today”.

Yes, I’m sorry, I know how every time someone says that to you, you have to fight back the urge to shake your finger in their face and tell them to buzz off.

As my apology, I’ve made a few “resolutions” this year.

  1. Blog more. As referred to in “A Blog a Day Keeps the Doctor Away” if you want more of an explanation.
  2. Drink more water.  This is literally my goal every year.  At least once a year I feel as if my entire body is going to shrivel up and I’ll just become a giant prune. So, water.
  3. Work LESS. I almost wrote “Work Smarter”, but no, I actually just want to do less work. My work is my life. LITERALLY MY LIFE, HOW SAD IS THAT.  I need more tacos, sand, mountains, and off brand vodka in my life.
  4. Snuggle my cat more. If that is even possible.

Simple, but attainable.

Until then there’s you

An ex boyfriend or three have told me I’m unemotional. Their exact words may have been “heartless bitch”, but details…..

I am unemotional to people.  I do not understand how to properly show emotion.  I smile at the wrong time, I cry only at sad Christmas commercials, and have to have the words “I love you” prodded out of me even if I mean it.  Don’t even get me started on hugs.

I’m not sure there is a single person on earth that knows how I truly feel about them, or even if I feel period!

I know, I’m working on it.

Until then there is this.  I’ve always been better at filling pages with my emotions.  I have so many emotions, that many of you know I have struggled to come to terms with.  I just want to make someone else feel.  Feel like it’s okay to have emotions, and it’s okay to not be okay every single fucking day of your life. But most of all it’s okay to let people see you at your weakest points.

Someday I hope I share these things with the people in my life, but until then there’s you.