Ah, how good it feels not to have to go into the office today. Now, I am very likely to go into campus this afternoon for a reception thingie (I think it would look good for me to be there, and really, why not go in for something social though work-related as opposed just to go in for work? Though I may possibly bail depending on my mood), but still: the benefit of the intense 3-day schedule is the break at the end of it. This morning I took the wee Mr. Stripey (who grows less wee by the minute - he's 6 lbs. now! Which means he's tripled in size since I got him!) to get his last round of shots this morning. You know, I really hate my vet. He's such a dick. And I feel like he likes Mr. Stripey better than he likes the Man-Kitty, which is totally uncool. And we had to wait in the exam room for a half hour before he sauntered in. But I do trust the asshole, so I won't change to a new vet. It's all very annoying. At any rate, you don't believe me about Mr. Stripey's increased size? Just take a gander at this picture of him and his partner in crime.
Not the best picture, but it does give a sense of the fact that Mr. Stripey is no longer a wee baby. Apparently, according to the vet's lame non-estimate, he'll end up being about the same size as Man-Kitty, though I still feel like he could grow to be the size of a small jungle cat. In other cat news, I finally bit the bullet and purchased a (sh! don't tell the kitties) dog bowl for them for their water. See, Mr. Stripey is a big fan of bringing his toys over to the food area to play, and the bowl I had used for their water - just a regular metal bowl - kept getting knocked over. Also, the bowl wasn't really big enough for them to drink from at the same time. A d-o-g bowl was truly the only option because the Man-Kitty prefers to drink from metal bowls (a) and because we needed something that foolish animals wouldn't topple over, and they really only cater to dogs when it comes to that. At any rate, the new bowl has been a raging success. (The kitties don't share their food bowls because I fear if they did the Man-Kitty might starve to death. So we're a cat family that has a communal water dish but then tiny bowls for food, with the Man-Kitty's being metal (for he is finicky like that and will not eat out of plastic or ceramic dishes) and ceramic for Mr. Stripey. While sometimes they switch spots if they're just grazing (well, Mr. Stripey will eat from the Man-Kitty's bowls), both have learned that they have their own spots at breakfast and dinner - Mr. Stripey on the right of the water bowl and Man-Kitty on the left. Indeed, the House of Crazy is a House of Routines.
Ok, enough of the cat-blogging. And funnily enough, that above nonsense wasn't the whole "in which I'm a spaz" thing that drove the title of the post. No, that spazziness was in relation to the whole "FB is to apply for a job at Crazy's University" situation. See, I had gotten it into my head that he'd never be happy working here, and this would then lead him to resent and hate me and blame me for doing something that would ruin his life. This is spazzy for a number of reasons, not the least of which being that the whole application thing could maybe not even result in an interview. Cart before the horse much? And then it's spazzy because in expressing my angst over this to him, he thought I was trying to say that I wouldn't want him to apply, which wasn't true at all. And then it's spazzy because, as FB rightly noted, one can't know whether one will be happy someplace until one is there, and basically by worrying over this I'm being a total tool. He also comforted me by saying that I don't need to worry about him resenting me because obviously he already does :) This totally made me laugh. Because, you know, I'm a spaz. What's most spazzy about this whole thing - and this is equal opportunity spazziness on both of our parts and not just on mine - is it's not like we're actually in a "real" relationship and dealing with a two-body problem. So why be angsty, seriously? You know what's funny? I feel like even if we ended up in the same place, I think I like thinking of FB as "fake" as opposed to real. It just takes so much pressure off. Because you know, when you're in a "fake" relationship, you really can do whatever the hell you want without feeling like you're not doing things the "right" way. I mean, nothing about this is "right" so we might as well just do whatever, you know? The only benefit I can think of related to transitioning into the "real" with him would be that my mother would stop referring to him as "your friend" which is just... eeewww. I think she feels like she can't use his name because she's not entirely sure he exists, or if he does exist, in what universe. But the "your friend" thing - eeewww.
Let's see.... what else? Nothing really. I have work to do (obviously) but I feel as if the working can wait. I should also do laundry, but well, I'm not feeling terribly motivated. Nah, I think I will relax for a bit with the kitties and then decide whether to go to campus for that reception. Yep, that sounds like the best possible plan.
6 years ago