
I don’t do things like being in the present, enjoying the moment, feeling happy and similar shit. In part because I don’t want to and in part because I’m not able to, which is presumably interrelated. Despite my relentless cynicism, I was surprised by the experience of a sort of a transcendental moment. It involved the toilet and the cat. It’s not as you think.
The cat pays me regular visits in the bathroom when I’m using it. I regard it as a sign of affection. As I was sitting on the toilet, doing my thing, the cat came, sat at my feet and stared at me, blinking slowly. I choose to interpret this probably random behaviour as my cat telling me she hates me the least. I was deeply touched. Insofar as I can be touched, that is.
I said, Awe, and, Mommy hates you the least too. I cuddled the cat, forgetting that I was in the middle of something, and noticed, as though I never saw it before, how cute she actually is. Not only is she particularly soft, she also has a fine fur pattern with a lovely brown tint, especially on her face. I really enjoyed this encounter. Likely, I was just high on my evening meds.