dogearedgirl

Bigness

I have this desire lately to be better than I am. To live harder than I have lived. To be more present in everything, every moment. This doesn't necessarily mean doing more, though I imagine that will come along with it. Rather, it means showing up with my whole self, with all of my attention- wherever I go, whatever I do. Being one hundred percent present. All of me engaged. Thoreau wanted to suck all the marrow out of life. It's like that. I want to live hard and well, and play and laugh often. I want to give as much as I can, and still keep myself intact. Not only intact, in fact, but awesome and happy and healthy and whole. I want to come to the end of my days having no regrets- having given my whole heart to the living. Having shared in all the love I could possibly share. Having put my whole effort into realizing my dreams.

so far today

It is 10:56 a.m.

So far the borrowed dog has not pooped, the borrowed dog has not eaten.*

I had a delicious muffin made by a friend for breakfast.

I spent half an hour sitting on the living room floor with a brush and treats, coaxing Ming-cat-of-specialness towards the "small dog" sized crate, left over from the Salchicha days. (That cat nearly died every time we transported her. At least in the dog crate she didn't seem to hyperventilate quite so earnestly.) Ming, of her own volition, went halfway into her crate without prompting. I could not convince her to go the rest of the way in. After a solid thirty minutes, I did a half-hearted chase-around-the-house attempt, which caused her to howl like I was beating her, and hide under the couch. I did not have it in me to fight her for it, just said, "I'm trying SO hard!" At which point, I started to cry. Just sat down on the couch, all forlorn, and cried for
a few minutes.

Moments later, I heard the street sweeper. Realized it was the first Monday of the month. Realized that I had parked on the street last night. Looked up in time to see the sweeper skirt Babba's truck. Ran out to
find that I had received a ticket two minutes before, while chasing the cat.

The driveway was empty. Our tenant left for work at 8:00. I could have pulled the truck in, but thought Ming and I would be out on the town, vet bound. Instead I have a cat with worms, a $46.00 ticket, and the
desire to snuggle in to some cuddly, comforting person, or sit in the dark somewhere. I have no cuddly person, and I am not going to sit in the dark. I am, however, having quite the trying morning.

Thanks for listening. I think I'll make some coffee now, and perhaps tonight my friend who is coming over can help me cat wrangle, and we can administer the home pill. Not holding my breath, and not caring very
much at the moment.

Oh, look at that. It's Monday. I never bought in to the whole Monday suckitude theory. This morning might sway me.

*She kindly ate while I composed this post. And somehow, that makes me feel a lot better. Small victories.

Such a downer post, after prolonged silence. I'll ruminate on frisky, upbeat stories for next time. Promise.