“If the light is in your heart, you will find [a] home.”

A week before I learned that I was about to lose the walls I was renting, I saw that one of my favourite artists, James Jean, was releasing a limited edition print on my birthday. It was a time-limited print, which meant it was only available for purchase during a 24-hour period.

I base most of my purchases on whether I need or want it. After a week of mulling, I decided to fulfill my want. Even after learning of my eventual eviction, I decided to not let my landlords stand in the way of this beauty:

I love it.

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Stay Tuft.

I have completed another orbit around the sun. Still no hamburger earmuffs. Although, a tufting gun made it onto my wish list a few days before my birthday. I assume nobody got me that tufting gun because they didn’t have enough time.

Hands off my gun!

Before yesterday, I can’t remember ever having sunshine on my birthday. I used the need for a rubber eraser to go for a walk. Eraser was acquired, as was Vitamin D. Yes, it felt so good being twice the age of the majority. Then I got a text from the landlord suggesting they wanted to evict me ASAP.

I didn’t think anything could beat an alarm clock as the worst birthday gift I’ve ever received. (My parents gave me the clock so they didn’t have to wake me up for school anymore.)

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Seclusion delusion.

I am officially a hermit!

No more coming home to Bubble greeting me by flopping around on the floor blissfully. No more catering to Enfoiré’s hunger before having him reward me with cuddles.

I no longer have pets to pet.

I can freely toss my hoodies over a chair without worrying about Enfoiré swallowing a piece of the drawstring, requiring a vet visit, as has happened before. No more waking up at 5am to the cats vaulting off me in a plea for crunchies. No more sopping up cat vomit with my socks while they’re on my feet. I can leave the bathroom door open without the cats sneaking in there to gnaw on the shower curtain liner. My electronic chargers, hair bands, and bra straps are no longer enticing snacks that need to be stored away.

Bubble was fussy and demanding, while Enfoiré had an eating disorder that ruled his demeanor. Despite their flaws, they were the best cats I’ve ever had.

Continue reading “Seclusion delusion.”