Continuing my exploration of the evolution of self-isolation baseline, I was having a coffee in the morning sun today when my black and white cat puked up a hairball and some of his biscuits by the scratcher. My ginger cat leapt up and, obviously craving a hot breakfast, ate it up. I would have puked too except I was laughing. It was gross and familial all at once. They are my family, such as it is.
Every once in a blue moon, I go to the loo and the black and white one will come in and head for the litter, and the ginger one jumps into the bath, and suddenly we're all weeing together. I always laugh at the way cats look at nothing when they wee. It's not embarrassment because they're cats, but they do look bored/miffed/distracted/thoughtful.
Having this new blog skin has helped me look back at some of my old blog posts. The first was in 2003! And boy howdy - I'm sure it was deep in the moment, but some of them are... esoteric, aren't they? I remember getting a bit self conscious about writing personal things back in the day. And, I've had a couple of friends tell me they're a bit worried about me because of what I'm writing here now in this journal. I'm not meaning to make you worry. I am trying to be frank about what's on my mind. And, the cats don't speak English, so I have to tell someone. Back then, when I stopped being personal, I was nervous about how it might affect my reputation. But now, writing this is more important than my reputation.
I mean, the pandemic is a world of constant firsts. Those books have never been arranged on that table like that before. I've never washed that combination of dishes like that. I've definitely never had that interesting combination of leftovers for lunch.
I've never scooped that combination from the litter box like that before. I've never put out that configuration of rubbish before, and certainly not at 4pm. I've never been drawn by my friend Kim over the internet while she asks me gently probing "tell me more about that" questions. I've never had three cups of coffee at exactly those times, the second one black. I've never eaten two individually wrapped panic-stockpile-bought Bon Maman Madeleines before. I've never sat exactly here, typing this, wearing this, watching this. I've never picked up four crystals I have at home and tried to photograph them on a mirror (that's harder than it would seem to make good, by the way - it's for a project).
I'm beginning to be in the present. That's exciting for me, because I usually worry about the future and misinterpreting the past.
Back to work tomorrow.
Every once in a blue moon, I go to the loo and the black and white one will come in and head for the litter, and the ginger one jumps into the bath, and suddenly we're all weeing together. I always laugh at the way cats look at nothing when they wee. It's not embarrassment because they're cats, but they do look bored/miffed/distracted/thoughtful.
Having this new blog skin has helped me look back at some of my old blog posts. The first was in 2003! And boy howdy - I'm sure it was deep in the moment, but some of them are... esoteric, aren't they? I remember getting a bit self conscious about writing personal things back in the day. And, I've had a couple of friends tell me they're a bit worried about me because of what I'm writing here now in this journal. I'm not meaning to make you worry. I am trying to be frank about what's on my mind. And, the cats don't speak English, so I have to tell someone. Back then, when I stopped being personal, I was nervous about how it might affect my reputation. But now, writing this is more important than my reputation.
I mean, the pandemic is a world of constant firsts. Those books have never been arranged on that table like that before. I've never washed that combination of dishes like that. I've definitely never had that interesting combination of leftovers for lunch.
 |
| Clockwise from 12 o'clock: roast veg with rosemary, spiced garlic and cauliflower dip, roast chicken, rice with herbs, and fuck off ginger pickle |
I've never scooped that combination from the litter box like that before. I've never put out that configuration of rubbish before, and certainly not at 4pm. I've never been drawn by my friend Kim over the internet while she asks me gently probing "tell me more about that" questions. I've never had three cups of coffee at exactly those times, the second one black. I've never eaten two individually wrapped panic-stockpile-bought Bon Maman Madeleines before. I've never sat exactly here, typing this, wearing this, watching this. I've never picked up four crystals I have at home and tried to photograph them on a mirror (that's harder than it would seem to make good, by the way - it's for a project).
I'm beginning to be in the present. That's exciting for me, because I usually worry about the future and misinterpreting the past.
Back to work tomorrow.