I Am Not Waiting For Him To Call

in case you were wondering, i am not waiting for him to call.

i was not waiting for him to call throughout my entire work day yesterday while i was diligently working and occasionally* checking my personal email account to not see if he'd written.

and actually, there were many many things i was occupying my time (and head) with yesterday while i was not waiting to hear from him, all of which i will detail for you now at this god-awful hour of the morning because i am awake because i went to bed early because i was not waiting for him to call last night, either.

like, talking PinkJaime into getting ONE drink with me after work. and then miraculously stopping after only two drinks(!) because i had to go run distracting errands. which, truth be told, consisted solely of shopping for cat food.

(oh man. is that maybe the saddest thing i've yet admitted? that i left a bar with my darling friend after two drinks because i had to shop for cat food? while not waiting for a boy (i barely know) to call? *sigh*)

well, in my defense, i did absolutely have to go to the store to buy cat food because my cats were getting ready to stage a mutiny. i've mentioned how i'm not maybe so on top of things? well, some days my cats bear the brunt of this, which translates into my having pleading conversations with them in the morning explaining that they have a very bad cat mommy but that i do really love them very much and that i promise i am going to go out and hunt for good food instead of the filler backup food i've been giving them and that when i return i will have something they really like, i swear. and then i beg them to understand and to please not pee in the kitchen while i'm gone.

and then for those of you who do not have cats (or who have low-maintenance cats, if there exists such a thing, though basically if you want a low-maintenance cat your'e better off just getting a dog) you might think that running to the store to get cat food is a simple, non-distraction-worthy activity. and you would be wrong.

how my inner dialogue works, in front of the cat food aisle, after two drinks:

"oh look, cheap cat food. too bad they won't eat that. you'd think they would. you'd think you could just offer them that or nothing and they'd be grateful, eventually. yeah, no. no one wants to live with my cats when they are cranky about their food and so yes, here we are at the Fancy Feast portion of the aisle. god, they've got quite a selection. i wish my cats ate normal stuff. no no, not the plain stuff. not the minced. not the flaked. ah, here's the sliced. but not fish-related sliced. only beef or turkey or chicken sliced. right. wait, that pink color, the chicken giblets, they won't eat that either. put that back. oh look! they like the new line of marinated, too. they are branching out, my cats, thank god i have more options now. oh wait, but they didn't like the marinated salmon. fucking cats. wow! they now have marinated beef! they love the sliced beef so much, i wonder if marinated beef will be their new favorite. they will be so happy with my new discovery! god, i wish i could just buy only the beef flavors and call it a day, but we know how well THAT goes over..."

and so goes the 15 minutes of standing in the cat food aisle, staring at rows and rows of cans that hold the key to my cats' happiness.

what? do you think i'm making any of that up? i'm totally not. my cats will not eat anything for more than three days in a row except for the dry food they like, which for some reason is the cheapest stuff on the market. but they will get very, very angry with me if i feed them only said dry food. so now they have dry food constantly available to them and then i give them wet food once a day (when i don't run out of it).

oh and i know you think they're spoiled, but YOU try changing their diets and then living with them. seriously.

anyway, back to my distractions.

i got home and fed the cats. and then myself. and i had chicken. and that was good because it further distracted me because when i eat chicken, sherlock stalks me. and he is sneaky. he will dive bomb me from all angles, aiming for my chicken with great dexterity (and sharp claws). so meals take twice as long as they normally would when i'm forced to play Chicken Keep-Away with my cat. and you certainly cannot wait for the phone to ring while you are playing Chicken Keep-Away. nope.

however, not waiting for him to call became a little bit harder as the evening wore on. because if you were him, you would probably wait until evening to not call, wouldn't you? erm, not that i was thinking in those terms.

so anyway this, dear imaginary internet friends, is when knitting becomes especially useful. because when you are winding finely woven yarn around four itty-bitty (size 5, kids) needles and having to count and purl and things while also half-watching bridget jones for the 40 millionth time, there is absolutely no way you can be waiting for him to call. hooray for knitting!

and then gosh, by 8:45 i was so so so tired, i couldn't possibly stay up any later. because i haven't gotten much sleep lately and knitting takes so so so much out of me and really, if i am going to be partying all weekend with NO ONE IN PARTICULAR then i should definitely take this time to catch up on my beauty rest.

and that's exactly what i did. and was asleep by 9.

unfortunately, this is why i was up by 6:15 a.m.

writing this.

because i am still absolutely not in the least in any way at all waiting for him to call.




*compulsively