Things that surprise my cat every day:
- when I leave in the morning, I don't come back until evening.
- when I come home, the screen door opens from the left.
- that I continue to exist overnight. Every time I emerge from the bedroom in the morning, I walk past her sleepy body as she squeaks in surprise. What? Are you still here? I thought you were gone!
- that she's not allowed in the bedroom, and will be driven away forcefully if caught on the bed itself.
Things that don't surprise her, ever:
- sex. She's thinks it's a narcotic agent, meant to put her to sleep as she lies in close proximity.
- the Boy's foolishness. She endures it with an enviable amount of stoicism. (Look, she's walking backwards on two legs! Look, if I push back the fur on her face, she looks like a weasel! Look, she's a wheelbarrow! Oh, it's Baby Ceilidh! Look, Ceilidh is working on her webpage!)
- the big crows that have taken possession of our back yard. When she's outside and they're around, she usually acts like a frightened adult near a group of boisterous teenagers. But she's never surprised that they're there.
It's beginning again. After 4 months of relative isolation, 4 months of pristine stillness and Valley breezes that I could keep to myself, the undergraduates are beginning to descend upon my town once more. Parking lots are filling up with cars. You can hear far away voices almost all the time. There are more people to pass & greet. And I don't really like it.
Confession time. I...don't like people. I didn't like them much to begin with; now I can tolerate even fewer examples of the species.
It's kind of funny that I moved to a nicer area of Canada, and my misanthropy has increased. Sigh.
this time 3 years ago: wishing i was curled up in my basement, watching Pee Wee's Big Adventure with Trevor.
