Much ado about not much.

As much as I enjoy sharing my thoughts, I like learning about other people too. I realized how much I miss the golden era of blogging while looking through Instagram (NOW OWNED BY META!). How is that, despite still being in a pandemic, everybody seems to be having an excellent time. IN NOVEMBER? Fuck off.

The most exciting thing I did today was buy a fan. Yes, a fan. IN NOVEMBER. After a fan-assisted workout on the smart trainer at Yann’s place, I knew I couldn’t go back to flooding my living room with sweat. I was telling myself that the bonus suffering from Zwifting fan-less was making me tougher. I’m not sure it did, but what my last fan-free session did was make me yellower. I’d just touched up my hair, and all the sweating dyed my neck yellow, as well as a streak down my forehead. I had to scrub my neck raw in the shower to get rid of it.

Now that I have my own fan, it’s one less thing to miss about Yann’s place. I will miss the commute, which was enjoyable. Riding alongside traffic was only a two-block-long experience. While slightly further from work, it was less hilly. Sadly, I don’t think Canadian Tire sells anything that would improve my commute.

I will miss the cats most of all. It was strange waking up this morning without Enfoiré bounding on the bed or Bubble sniffing at my eyes. (Cats seem to enjoy the scent of my eyeballs, especially Bubble.)

So, for two weeks, along with morning eyeball nuzzles, I was back dealing with their elaborate feeding schedule. They require timed, supervised feedings because Enfoiré is a certified Megachonk, while Bubble is a confused non-food-motivated tiny cow. Even when Bubble starts begging for food, he often does not eat: I suspect that Enfoiré taught Bubble to complain on his behalf. Without supervision, Enfoiré would take over Bubble’s unfinished crunchies. But, because Enfoiré was inhaling his meal, barfing from eating too fast, and then eating the regurgitated mush, I tried giving him a sprinkling of crunchies at a time. He did not like this.

Enfoiré puked four times and peed outside the litter box once. He is a challenging cat. Also, not to be dramatic, but he is THE CUTEST ANIMAL I HAVE EVER SEEN. When he parks on my chest and looks at me with fully dilated pupils while purring, it is SO cute that I start tearing up.

It took a week for Bubble to bond with me to the extent that he started greeting me when I’d get home. He says “Hello” by flopping around on the floor. Like so:

Bubble is also aggressively cute.

It was sweet getting to chill on a real couch again. Now that I’m home, I’m back using a sofa chair while propping my feet on a dining chair. My living room isn’t big enough for a real sofa, and the seating real estate afforded by a loveseat isn’t worth the expense. I may upgrade my bathmat, though. Yann owns the most luxurious bathmat I’ve ever had the pleasure of wiggling my toes on.

14/15 of my plants survived my two-week absence. I dropped by thrice to water them: not good enough for the maidenhair fern! I may have been able to save it, but my visit to Canadian Tire supplemented me with a pepperface peperomia. Not as fun as cats, I know.

Because I’d repotted my new plant immediately, it left me smelling like dirt. Hours later, even after handling garlic during dinner preparation, I still smelled of potting soil. Instead of showering, I remedied this by putting on a rollerball perfume: Indigo by NEST, which I’d gotten as a freebie. It’s SO GOOD that I want to emulate the LaChapelle Heatherette for MAC video where Amanda Lepore goes overboard with lipstick and paints herself pink.

The one that will inspire your nightmares for the next week?

Instead of pink, I’ll be pungent! And with my fan, I won’t have to worry about staining myself yellow anymore.

…The fun can never stop if it never started.

6 thoughts on “Much ado about not much.

  1. I bought two small fans from Canadian Tire, and a remote control plug from Amazon to outfit my pain cave. I don’t need the fan right away, but turn it on after I get warmed up.


  2. I love reading your dispatches. Even when about ‘nothing’ (arguable!), they are charming and funny— thank you for writing them.

    I miss my own ‘golden age’ of blogging; I rarely write anymore aside from dry emails for work! I miss the processing that blogging afforded my brain.


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