Please pardon my erratic posting while I, um, slowly crash and burn. Instead of having one big, nicely contained emotional meltdown I've been spacing it out, 20 minutes a day, whether I need it or not.
I'm almost looking forward to the next time I stub my toe, just so I can finally loose my shit once and for all. Get the thing over and done with so I can properly move on already. Things to do, places to go!
My cats know I'm a wreck. Bertie's been taking a break from his usual hell boy antics (like shredding this dress to bits) and acting shockingly lovable. Snuggling with me, letting me pet him and everything. He even brushed up against my leg for the first time ever this week.
This morning in bed, I remembered why I though getting a cats could possibly be a good idea to start with. Which in itself is worth the multiple miniature breakdowns.
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