Sometimes, after dinner, I leave the baby and the husband downstairs to their own devices (I usually hear yelling and screaming within a few minutes but luckily I’m able to ignore that until the cops arrive) and escape to my/our bedroom so I can nerd out on my laptop. You know, because I don’t spend enough time on the computer all day.
When I do this, the cat always comes upstairs and joins me on the bed and goes through this ritual wherein he walks on my keyboard, kneads my back, then curls up next to me.
I enjoy this time together, except for the walking on the keyboard because he invariably sticks his butt in my face and I don’t like him in that way.
Also, I don’t live in a doughnut-shaped room. I think I had the fish-eye effect on in Photobooth or some shit.
I received email from an old friend today, a friend with whom I’m no longer really speaking for reasons neither of us can pin down. It was emotionally charged and spewing of issues. And it got me thinking about myself and my flaws and the ways in which I’m a shitty person. I thought it would be a good exercise to sit down and write out the ways that I fail at life so I could look at them, confront them, own them. But that’s a daunting task. Perhaps I’ll spread it out.
Flaw: I take the notion that we’re all alone in the world to extremes, and think that I can’t relate to a single person in the universe. I’m a unique and beautiful snowflake, dammit. I guess on some existential level, this is true. We all think different things and have different experiences. But it seems incredibly arrogant to translate that into an excuse to isolate myself.
Another flaw: I reference concepts like existentialism even though I haven’t read a lick of Sartre since high school.