I Don't Get It

Did I ever tell you guys about how Impala likes to have sex with my clothes sometimes? Well he does. He also like to carry my clothes around the house for no apparent reason. Last night, my dad and I were sitting in the living room watching Angel and Impala just comes wandering into the room carrying one of my shirts in his mouth. This was the shirt I had slept in the previous night and I had left it lying on the floor in my room, upstairs. Yes, he carried my shirt down the stairs and into the living room. He then proceeded to drag it aimlessly around the room before wandering off again. At the time, I thought "I'll probably never see that shirt again." because he has been known to take my clothes and hide them under random pieces of furniture, I guess so I won't take them back? Later, when I went upstairs to go to bed, there was the shirt just lying at the top of the stairs. So, just to recap, he took my shirt from my bedroom floor, dragged it down the stairs, brought it into the living room, wandered around with it for a moment, then dragged it back up the stairs and put it back a few feet from where it was to begin with. Why? I just........why?

Self-Awareness

One of these days, I really am going to get my shit together and post everyday. Anyway.

I really hate myself sometimes for being as unhappy as I am. I feel like, to an outside observer, my life really doesn't seem all that bad. So what right do I have to feel the way I do about it? Furthermore, I pretty much always hate myself for how incredibly angry I get over the most mundane annoyances. I mean, one tiny thing goes wrong and I'm utterly furious for most of the day. I think I finally figured out though, why it is that I am the way I am. It's not like knowing why is actually going to change anything, but at least I understand now. So here's my theory; I think there are a few basic things that people need to have, or feel that they have, in order to function in an even remotely healthy way.

1- Purpose- People need to have concrete goals to work toward. They need to know where they want to be and what steps they should take in order to get there.
2- Fulfillment- People need to feel that the things they do matter. Their lives need to have value for them.
3- Connection- People need other people. Whether romantic or platonic, people need to feel deep connections with others. They need to feel understood, accepted, and appreciated.
4- Space- People need to have a safe place. They need to have a place to go that feels like their own, a place to get away from the rest of the world and feel at home.
5- Control- People need to feel like they have some small measure of control over what happens to them. They need to feel like they have the ability to shape their own futures, like their choices matter.

The problem is, I don't feel like I have any of these things.

1- I don't know what the fuck my purpose is.
2- I know, for a fact, that nothing I'm doing right now matters in the least.
3- Basically, the only people I even associate with are my immediate family and, half the time, they don't even know what the fuck I'm talking about.
4- I can't even remember when the last time was that I felt "at home" in the place I was living.
5- No matter how hard I try, every choice I make somehow gets me farther and farther from where I want to be.

The point here is this, I have GOT to get some of this shit figured out or I am going to end up spending the rest of my life as a giant fuming ball of rage. I don't have any of the big things that people need in life, so I put far too much importance on the little things. So then, one little thing gets fucked up and my world falls apart. I am basically holding my psyche together with duct tape.

To make up for the fact that this post is so depressing and whiny, here is a picture of Impala being all adorable.

It's Funny Because No One Died

So, a few days ago, I almost set the cat on fire. Yeah. That could have ended very VERY badly.

Here's what happened; I have this candle that my mom gave me. It's some kind of aroma therapy thing that's supposed to make me happier or something. I don't know that it actually works, but it does make the house smell better which I suppose makes me a bit happier in and of itself.

Anyway, instead of blowing the thing out, like a normal person, I like to pinch it out with my fingers. Well, the other night, I put the flame out and a piece of what I thought was ash stuck to my finger and I flicked it off without even thinking about it. I didn't see where it landed and I didn't really think it mattered so I just started to get ready to go to bed. Then I looked down and noticed that Impala was laying on the floor right under the candle. Then I noticed a tiny glowing, red dot on his fur. I thought to myself  "What the fuck is....OH SHIT! OH SHIT! OH SHIT!" He didn't even seem to notice that he was slowly catching on fire. I did my best to talk very calmly to him and carefully reached down and picked the small ember out of his fur without him ever figuring out what was going on. This was an extremely lucky thing because, if he had figured out what was going on, he would have no doubt gone tearing through the house setting everything around him ablaze and I NEVER would have caught him. It would have been a complete and utter disaster that would have most likely ended in tragedy for him and crippling guilt for me. Since no one got hurt, it's just kind of funny.

I imagine he would have looked something like this, minus the swim fins. 

Thoughts on Love Part 3: Inspiration

Just in case you were wondering what precipitated this idea about the true meaning of Love, it was Impala (my cat, not Dean's car). The thing is, I've been having a really hard time getting along with all of the animals lately. I find myself getting extremely frustrated with them all the time. Yet, despite the fact that he is probably more of a pain in the ass than any of the others, I never seem to get as mad at Impala as I do everyone else. I could never really figure out why I wasn't as bothered by his bad behavior as I was by the other animals' slightly less bad behavior. Then it suddenly hit me that it was because, pain in the ass or not, he actually acts like he loves me. I know this probably sounds stupid as hell to most people, but I feel like the others are always judging me, or demanding things of me. They are always wanting something from me, and they are always disappointed when I don't quite deliver. Impala makes me feel like he genuinely enjoys being around me, even when I'm in a pissy mood. Around here, someone is constantly barking at me, or tripping me, or yelling, or trying to grab something out of my hand, or slamming into me. Impala doesn't do that. He just stands near me (but not quite near enough to trip me) and when I look at him he puts his front feet up of the wall and stretches up toward my hand. It's fucking adorable and it makes me feel like he actually likes me as a person.

I pretty much get this look from everyone, all day. I interpret it as "Just look at yourself. Look at what you've become." 

The Cone of Shame

So we finally got Impala fixed, in the hopes that he will stop pissing all over the house. I dropped him off yesterday and picked him up today. He was remarkably good in the car on the way there. He barely made a sound and didn't even seem to be nervous. Obviously things were a bit different on the way back; he was still quiet, but he looked incredibly sad and hopeless. I think he had just given up and decided that he had no chance of surviving the experience. I was really worried about him until I got him back inside the house, then he realized where he was and started screaming and thrashing himself against the crate. Now he has pretty much been hiding under my bed since we got back. I'm fairly certain he will never forgive me, and for good reason.

Also, they gave him a cone of shame and now I feel like the worst person ever. 

Oops, and Also Now What?

Alas, I completely forgot to write a post yesterday. I think this is the first time since I started this blog, which I guess is pretty good. Still, it bugs me. Anyway, sorry about that.

So now that I'm done whining about the lack of post yesterday, I'll go ahead and get to today's post. I still haven't heard anything from the police department. I'm starting to wonder if they facebook stalked me and decided that I was too "radical" or something. I had actually kind of wondered about that when I applied in the first place. I mean, animal rights is a pretty controversial subject in any setting, but I'm sure it's even less accepted by law enforcement than it is by the average person. These are the people responsible for arresting the people I think of as heroes after all. Anyway, I have now started trying to decide what my plan B is going to be. Yay! back to square one, yet again. Also, Impala pissed on my bed today, so that was fucking great.

What the Fuck Happened!?

I don't know what is going on lately. It used to be that I was terrible at dealing with people but I genuinely enjoyed the company of nonhuman animals. Recently, I swear to god, it seems like every living thing in a fifty mile radius is conspiring to make me lose my fucking mind. There are certain things in my life that always have (and I'm sure always will) caused me a great deal of stress. Recently it's like the whole universe is just feeding off of those things and turning me into this mangled mass of rage, frustration and helplessness. The three things that have been a pretty consistent source of trouble in my life have been; my issue with germs, my difficulty managing my time which causes me to run late for everything and (related to the previous issue) the fact that I am always struggling to get the right amount of sleep. Last night, I was was just barely going to get five hours of sleep. So naturally my dad's dogs wait until I just barely fall asleep and then they start howling, not barking, howling! They do this for about five minutes, then I just start to drift back off and they start again! Then, about an hour before I was going to get up, Riley starts barking. I yell at him to stop and he eventually does. Then we repeat the process three times. So this morning I'm stumbling around like a damn zombie, trying to get ready. I'm standing at the bathroom sink and I suddenly realize that my feet are wet. I look down and the entire bathroom floor is covered in piss! I mean the entire floor. Impala's favorite place to piss has been the towel that was on the bathroom floor. So I moved it thinking that he might use, oh I don't know maybe the litter box, instead? No! He just uses the entire bathroom floor. So now not only am I completely disgusted because my feet are drenched in piss, but I'm also even more behind schedule than I already was because I had to scrub the whole bathroom floor and my feet. Fucking awesome! I wish I could say this was just today, but this has been a consistent pattern for the past few months and it's only getting worse. I don't understand what is going on.  

Evil. Pure, Ridiculously Adorable Evil.

We now have a new cat living with us. His name is Impala and he is sweet, friendly, absurdly cute and a complete fucking terror! He is constantly attacking us, viciously. He knocks things off of every imaginable surface. He stampedes through the house all day. He tries to knock me down the stairs at every opportunity. I'm not talking about walking in front of me; I'm talking about waiting until I start to take that first step down and then running up behind me and grabbing my ankle with both hands (feet, whatever). In all honesty, these things, as dangerous and sometimes painful as they are, can be somewhat cute. What isn't cute is the fact that he has been pissing on everything in the house! I can't even tell anymore if my stuff actually smells like cat piss or if I'm juts completely paranoid. I know for a fact that, on more than one occasion, I have left the house either wearing or carrying something that has been pissed on. I'm not sure what to do about this situation, but I really don' have any desire to be the smelly kid in class.

Yes I did, in fact, name him after Dean's car.