You represent... loneliness.
Always alone and always sad about it... unlike
angst, you don't have to look for a reason to
be miserable. You want to be in the company of
people but aren't sure how to act when you're
with them. Sometimes you have to make an
effort. You can't always wait for others to
come to you.
What feeling do you represent?
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No surprises there. I've been lonely most of my life, I think.
Having the latest offering from Taco Smell, but not enjoying it very much--I don't think I'll even finish it, ugh. There's this older white dude who works there who pays a tad bit too much attention to me and it makes me uncomfortable.
My doll isn't garnering much response on eBay, and do you know what I just discovered? I forgot to make bidding anonymous, as is the usual custom in dolly circles. CRAP. And now someone's placed a bid so I can't change it. Oh well, at least it's selling, even if it's for the paltry opening bid price.
These cats are a dilemma for me. I picked them up from a corner of the parking lot of my complex last September because someone in the leasing office told me that animal control had been called on them, meaning certain death. I actually wasn't going to get involved but for some reason I went to see the kittens for myself, who were perhaps 2-3 weeks old at the time, and the siamese-looking female, now named Missy, kept following me and wouldn't let me go. Insistent little bitch, she is. So, I got a cardboard box, rounded them all up and brought them home.
Now I'm not even supposed to have cats, for a myriad of reasons. One, I'm allergic, in that they trigger my asthma. Two, I'm technically a dog owner even though my parents keep them for me during the semester (and have gotten so attached to them that I'm hoping they'll adopt them). Three, surely I'm violating some clause in my leasing contract (like I really care much about that). I signed up as a foster through a local non-profit adoption organization
[someone knocking on my door -- piss off, motherfucker! damn salespeople]
and two of the five kittens have already been adopted to a wonderful young family who've even let me visit them, which was very sweet. I still have the three remaining kittens, who are now about five months old. Newman, a male siamese, is so beautiful and the sweetest, most affectionate creature I've ever known. Peep, a female tortie, has a comically quizzical expression; she's spunky and quite the looker with her glossy black fur. And of course, Missy, the female siamese, who's pushy and in-your-face (or, more accurately, butt-in-your-face).
I've thought for a long time now that I'd keep Newman and Peep and put Missy up for adoption. There have been delays, such as health problems and then the holidays. Now, though, I have to ask myself if cats are right for me. They're getting into everything! I liked them better when they were really little and couldn't reach anything. I'm not given to neatness in the best of times, and these cats are making it 100 times worse. Oh Lord. But the thought of putting them up for adoption kills me. See? This is a lovely example of my indecisive self. I don't know what to do. I do know they're at the age to get spayed/neutered, and I want to get that taken care of before Newman starts spraying everywhere.
One thing's certain, the thought of coming home to an empty apartment is not appealing at all.
posted by Newpeep, N.D. (neurotic depressive) @ 6:57 PM
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