minalisms


    Posts Tagged ‘sadness’

    Lewis from St. Louis

    Thursday, April 8th, 2010

    Our cat Lewis has been hit with FLUTD — that is, feline lower urinary tract disease — and I’m totally bummed.

    Even though the diagnosis could be much, much worse, I became a wreck this evening over the thought of it indeed being much, much worse — as in a fatal condition that the doctor threw out as a possibility.

    So we have to monitor Lewis’ litter-box visits as best we can now, which I’m sure perplexes and annoys the heck out of him. But since returning from the vet this evening, I observed that he tried to empty his bladder 11 times within one hour, and only the first visit to a box was successful. He’s also keeping his distance from us and choosing to camp out under the dining table despite our coaxing.

    Just the other day I was telling Ben that we have the best cats in the world and that I hope they stay healthy and live long enough for our son to love and play with them too. So I found it incredibly unfair to find that so soon after that conversation we are faced with thoughts of those same sweet cats’ mortality.

    Get well soon, Lewis.

    Foggy

    Thursday, November 5th, 2009

    Something has been up with me this week. Have you read the recent blog posts? It’s evident that I’ve been a basket case.

    If I were to let you peek at the data within my nifty ovulation app for the iPhone (Should I have admitted that? But I am so 3003!), you’d see that my moods these past three days were “gloomy,” “weepy” and “sad.”

    So there will be a few things happening between now and Sunday to help me snap out of this fog — things that will involve rigorous exercise, unapologetic shopping and a pregnancy test.

    This is depressing

    Tuesday, November 3rd, 2009

    Today, I noticed another one of my shoes had a broken heel, making this the second pair in three months that must be fixed or thrown out.

    “Great, now I have to go shoe shopping,” I complained.

    Wait, what did I just say?

    But it’s true. I couldn’t care less about shopping for new duds. I’m not the least bit intrigued about this season’s fall boots or want to stock up on fuzzy sweaters and wool skirts. I stopped caring about fashion about a year ago. That’s why I rotate through the same three work pants every week. On weekends, I stand inside my closet and stare; yet nothing inspires me, so I pull out something drab yet comfortable and conclude, “I don’t care. Who really cares? I don’t care!!”

    This is depressing me.

    I want my vanity back. I want back the part of me that didn’t mind the fuss of makeup and dress-up. Bring back the girl who invested in herself — With time and money and confidence.

    Pity party

    Tuesday, September 22nd, 2009

    For someone who is big on doing nothing during her time off, I certainly did a bunch this weekend.

    Trips to California do that; they’re never boring, and it’s during those trips that I remember just how many people I am connected to and how good it feels to be surrounded by those who understand you and your context.

    I’m coping with that familiar melancholy that comes after saying goodbye (again) to my relatives and close friends out West — there’s just no one in St. Louis who compares to my crew of parents, aunts, uncles, cousins and friends.

    But there’s a reason for that.

    I’d be lying if I said the few(er), sometimes shallow relationships I have in St. Louis weren’t my own fault. One minute I am bragging about my preference to spend normal evenings and weekends at home doing nothing, and in the next breath I allude to the lack of connections I’ve made here in my new home city. And yet all this time the correlation had escaped me …

    The sun will come out…

    Sunday, September 14th, 2008

    I don’t know whether it was the fitful night of sleep, the overcast skies, the jitteriness from a too-large coffee, the empty stomach, the five-hour-long missing-cat episode or the donation of my cute clothes to a skinny friend, but today climaxed in big, sloppy tears.

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