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Sep. 20th, 2015 10:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kittydesadeEverything still hurts, I thought it would be better when I got home after work on Friday and I did take a census and saw three out of four remaining ferals, and the only one who was missing was Tasha, who might actually be living under our house now. Or at least, over the weekend I saw someone who looked a lot like her, who seemed to recognize me, eating out of the food bowl in the utility room. Barton and Little Bit continue to occupy the front stoop and that area. I got to beep Barton's nose a couple of times and I even picked up Little Bit, who only struggled after a while of holding her in a 'put me doooown mom' way, not a 'AUGH WHAT THE FUCK GET IT OFF GET IT OFF ME' way. Mainly I'd picked her up so she wouldn't get bit by a praying mantis the size of my hand or bigger, that was lurking by the food bowl. I held her, the boy shooed the mantis away.
So I've had feral time with all my boys and girls, though I haven't seen Cassius in a couple of days. Then again I've mainly been coming down, feeding them at the usual time, and going back to bed. Usually he comes over in the morning, meows his hellos, eats his fill and wanders back across the street (and at this point giving me a heart attack in the process.) But I want my Tiny Bit. I miss my Tiny Bit. I haven't seen him since we buried him, which makes more sense when you think that these are ferals that I don't get to know as well so I keep thinking maybe that was an identical wild one from two blocks over and he's still around somewhere. And then I think about it more and start sobbing.
The boy almost had to take a trip two hours out, too, to be with his friend whose father had died and everyone was worried about him. But the friend checked in via text late Saturday morning so that was all right, so he didn't. Which is good. I want my boy around me right now. And my cats.
I wasn't able to capoeira on Saturday either, I took a coughing fit Friday night, pretty late, that resulted in a huge amount of gasping and wheezing and ended up spending more of the weekend on the couch than I'd actually planned for because, well, when your lungs don't work right. So I didn't get the endorphin rush, I still got to deal with the inevitable result of eating my feelings for a couple of days, which did not help everything between the self-image issues and the sugar/carb crash, and argh. Just, fucking argh. Everything hurts and I can't afford to take a week off work and cry and sleep and try and focus on getting my food habits back to good.
Good things. Good things did happen this weekend, goddammit, despite the grief and vicarious shock and having had one good goddamn day last week before everything turned to shit again. I emailed back A Person and did not freak out. I handled a scary issue related to my writing and did not freak out, and I hope I handled it with grace and maturity and will continue to handle it with maturity and learning. I did learn a bunch of things I hadn't thought of or known, I just need to hold them in my mind when I rewrite. Which I am not the hell to the no doing now, that's for when my brain isn't drowning in pathos. I got my chevre grits, which I learned were chevre and not gruyere, which means I now know the right cheese to get to make it at home. I got some fat quarters and made two composition book covers, finally. They actually look really nifty! I need to remember I do have more seam allowance than I've been giving it though, it ends up overlapping the edges of the notebook a fair bit and the seam turns out too close to the edges. So. Be less timid! And be more careful about your astronomy quiz, which, I did it and it turned out all right except by the time I got to the math section I was so tired and my brain was still so fucked up that I just guessed all the math answers. I had a 25% chance of lucking out, failed every one. Good thing this isn't for money or otherwise sticking grades, considering I missed the first quiz. I also caught up on some American Government lessons and, okay, didn't do much else. No, that's not true, I did do some reading, and I did some knitting, even if I had to pull the whole thing back to the ribbing on the cuff. I did frog it back and managed to put all the loops onto the needles again so I can start fresh and this time maybe not make the second glove a couple inches shorter than the first. We did a little picking up. And now I'm watching My Neighbor Totoro, because of reasons and best friends with sympathetic husbands and huggable things, and arranging my schedule to see how much time I've lost in the writing work I need to do. Not much, I think? Except the obvious getting shit done for White Lightning, which I still did anyway. So.
So. It's not that anything horrible has happened since, it's just being still sunk in grief and depression. I miss my snuggly feral kitty. I miss being able to pet him and hear him purr as he ate. And every time I think how much I miss him, it still hurts. But I have my four housecats, and I still have Barton and Little Bit and whoever that is under the house, Tasha or a new black cat. And I still have a whole lot of books to read, things to write, I may end up with a slight surplus of budget this month even with retail therapy (it helps that I retail therapied cheap craft supplies and used books, but still), I got my flu shot, I know that if I get back to eating healthy and exercising properly I can both easily fix what I did to myself and feel better in those ways at least, probably within a week. And I have writing to do and good friends who are helping me with it. Seriously, I need to send them a fruit basket or something. And. Things are getting better. It will get better from here, right? I hope.
So I've had feral time with all my boys and girls, though I haven't seen Cassius in a couple of days. Then again I've mainly been coming down, feeding them at the usual time, and going back to bed. Usually he comes over in the morning, meows his hellos, eats his fill and wanders back across the street (and at this point giving me a heart attack in the process.) But I want my Tiny Bit. I miss my Tiny Bit. I haven't seen him since we buried him, which makes more sense when you think that these are ferals that I don't get to know as well so I keep thinking maybe that was an identical wild one from two blocks over and he's still around somewhere. And then I think about it more and start sobbing.
The boy almost had to take a trip two hours out, too, to be with his friend whose father had died and everyone was worried about him. But the friend checked in via text late Saturday morning so that was all right, so he didn't. Which is good. I want my boy around me right now. And my cats.
I wasn't able to capoeira on Saturday either, I took a coughing fit Friday night, pretty late, that resulted in a huge amount of gasping and wheezing and ended up spending more of the weekend on the couch than I'd actually planned for because, well, when your lungs don't work right. So I didn't get the endorphin rush, I still got to deal with the inevitable result of eating my feelings for a couple of days, which did not help everything between the self-image issues and the sugar/carb crash, and argh. Just, fucking argh. Everything hurts and I can't afford to take a week off work and cry and sleep and try and focus on getting my food habits back to good.
Good things. Good things did happen this weekend, goddammit, despite the grief and vicarious shock and having had one good goddamn day last week before everything turned to shit again. I emailed back A Person and did not freak out. I handled a scary issue related to my writing and did not freak out, and I hope I handled it with grace and maturity and will continue to handle it with maturity and learning. I did learn a bunch of things I hadn't thought of or known, I just need to hold them in my mind when I rewrite. Which I am not the hell to the no doing now, that's for when my brain isn't drowning in pathos. I got my chevre grits, which I learned were chevre and not gruyere, which means I now know the right cheese to get to make it at home. I got some fat quarters and made two composition book covers, finally. They actually look really nifty! I need to remember I do have more seam allowance than I've been giving it though, it ends up overlapping the edges of the notebook a fair bit and the seam turns out too close to the edges. So. Be less timid! And be more careful about your astronomy quiz, which, I did it and it turned out all right except by the time I got to the math section I was so tired and my brain was still so fucked up that I just guessed all the math answers. I had a 25% chance of lucking out, failed every one. Good thing this isn't for money or otherwise sticking grades, considering I missed the first quiz. I also caught up on some American Government lessons and, okay, didn't do much else. No, that's not true, I did do some reading, and I did some knitting, even if I had to pull the whole thing back to the ribbing on the cuff. I did frog it back and managed to put all the loops onto the needles again so I can start fresh and this time maybe not make the second glove a couple inches shorter than the first. We did a little picking up. And now I'm watching My Neighbor Totoro, because of reasons and best friends with sympathetic husbands and huggable things, and arranging my schedule to see how much time I've lost in the writing work I need to do. Not much, I think? Except the obvious getting shit done for White Lightning, which I still did anyway. So.
So. It's not that anything horrible has happened since, it's just being still sunk in grief and depression. I miss my snuggly feral kitty. I miss being able to pet him and hear him purr as he ate. And every time I think how much I miss him, it still hurts. But I have my four housecats, and I still have Barton and Little Bit and whoever that is under the house, Tasha or a new black cat. And I still have a whole lot of books to read, things to write, I may end up with a slight surplus of budget this month even with retail therapy (it helps that I retail therapied cheap craft supplies and used books, but still), I got my flu shot, I know that if I get back to eating healthy and exercising properly I can both easily fix what I did to myself and feel better in those ways at least, probably within a week. And I have writing to do and good friends who are helping me with it. Seriously, I need to send them a fruit basket or something. And. Things are getting better. It will get better from here, right? I hope.