First things first: Enfoiré had an emergency endoscopy this morning and is on his way to recovery. The picture below was taken shortly after he returned home. He is high as fuck.
Yann still needs financial rehabilitation, so the GoFundMe remains active. The $3000 goal is based on the loan Yann took out. Ideally, he’ll be able to pay off his loan as soon as possible before the interests start eating into his repayments.
The good news is that 43% of the goal was reached within 24 hours. The great news is that it shows Yann how many people care: not just close friends but also people who understand that such a pet emergency is a significant life event. I was more optimistic than Yann when I set up that fundraiser: I’d witnessed a flurry of kindness, many of which came from unexpected sources, after my accident last year.
Before I expound on my sentimentality, because I know everyone wants to know the answer to the question, “What was it that the little shit ate, anyway?”
The little shit… stole a rubber grommet off Yann’s tool bag. So, that is a picture of a $4000+ rubber grommet. I follow a few cat subreddits, and some of the things that had to be surgically removed from cats’ stomachs are wild. I remember seeing an x-ray of three sewing needles inside a cat. How… and why (and especially why) would a cat eat a sewing needle? Three times?
Back to the heart of this post. To those who donated: you have advanced to the first level of sainthood. Thank you for punching in your credit card number despite the reason being that someone’s smooth-brained, triangle-eared idiot swallowed a nugget of rubber. It means a lot to me: I love that cat. I kept tearing up in bed until I finally dozed off, worried about whether the surgery would happen soon enough.
Tomorrow is my first day back at work after 11 days off. In the time I’ve been back in Victoria, I’ve had a revelation: ever since the breakup, I’ve had an influx of free time. This was easy to manage while in Vancouver: I was in vacation mode, and because I was visiting from out of town, people were making time in their schedule for me.
It’s been different since getting home. I was narrating my day from the moment I woke up to right before I plugged my phone in to charge at night, to one person. While in the relationship, I had so little time to myself (of which I seem to require more than most) that I was left with little bandwidth for socializing with other people. I’ve since found myself attempting to narrate my day to various friends, and none of them seem to be all that invested in the trite details of my day.
I haven’t decided whether this is out of habit or because I feel lonely. Since the breakup, the to-do lists in my journal have become longer and more frequent. My life hasn’t gotten busier: my capacity to get things done has increased. For sure, I’d become overwhelmed by the level of commitment and devotion required in that relationship. I grew to resent having a mobile phone: opening my phone to find a text questioning why I hadn’t responded in four hours filled me with unwarranted guilt.
I’d long given up on panicking whenever I see I’ve been left on read. Cognitive Behaviour Therapy involves exploring both extremes of a possible outcome. For worrywarts like me, I automatically entertain the worst possible outcome. Last night, while crying in bed, I thought about Enfoiré not waking up after being sedated. I could have just as well told myself that I’d wake up the next day to find that the fundraiser had already reached 100% of its goal and that Enfoiré would be just fine. The reality usually ends up being somewhere in the middle.
When I leave people on read, it’s because I was curious enough to see their message, but not ready to end up in a conversation. Sometimes I don’t reply immediately because I’m in the middle of something else, even if that something else is watching tv.
All this bonus free time is making me feel desperate. Still, I don’t resent anyone who hasn’t been able to match my level of availability. I need time to adjust.
Is it possible? I am looking forward to returning to work.
squaremeat.com 