I’m back from vacation. Wow, am I ever boring. Did I go anywhere? No. Did I engage in any wild and crazy behavior? Not unless you count just being crazy. I definitely did that, down to my very core. I scheduled a few late-night nervous breakdowns, the kind I can’t have when I’ve got to be at work at 8 am. These were followed up with huge breakfasts and hours of reading. It was a luxurious time, but I’m kind of relieved it’s over. I was wearing myself out with the self-analysis.

My housemate has adopted a feral kitten and I am healing like mad. We all are. The kitten was puny and paranoid when they found her near the railroad tracks a few weeks ago. Now she’s energetic and getting chunkier by the second. Her name is Spider. When I hold her, I find myself thinking things like I just know it’s going to be all right! and Oh, maybe I’m not so bad. When she hops around like a demented tarantula, I think There’s hope for every one of us! and At least I’m not that small.

I don’t have a picture of our actual kitten, but she looks kind of like this one:

From The Daily Kitten

Except way, way cuter.

The kitten’s first few days with us were rough going, due to separation from her mama and her scrappy half-starved runt condition. During this crucial time, Baudelaire proved to us all what a gentleman he really is. He cuddled with her. He also licked her butt, repeatedly. Thanks to Baudelaire, the kitten did not need a kitty enema. Sadly, Baudelaire became conflicted when the kitten slept in his owner’s bed one night. It was reported that Baudelaire sat on the windowsill all night staring creepily at the kitten. Since then, relations between Baudelaire and the kitten have been cordial but somewhat distant.

It’s good to know where Baudelaire’s loyalties lie. To know, in fact, that he has loyalties.

Wait, what am I doing still at work when there’s a tiny kitten at home? I gotta go!

ps- Happy birthday, Esther!