The Good, The Bad & The Hopelessly Menopausal Cat Lady

The Good: I’m generally happy. I’m staying busy. I’m probably in the best shape I’ve been in ten years. I found a sport and a group of ladies whom I obsess over more endlessly. I’m active. I’m involved. I’m finding success. All good, right?

The Bad: I’m lonely. See, AB’s job took him to Pittsburgh, so in a twisted and incredibly sad way, we’re now in the throes of a long-distance relationship. When I stay busy, I don’t think too much of it. I make my own hours and utilize the evenings and late-late nights of insomnia with more work and more writing. But some times for a second, it completely catches me off guard. Because of this, I’m eating horribly — if at all. Mostly because AB is not here to cook for me every night. I’m generally too lazy to cook for myself, which results in a bowl of cereal before bed (but at least it’s organic, right?). At least I’m not eating my feelings.

Like I said, I have good weeks and some really, really bad weeks.

This is one of those bad weeks.

*time out*

And every time I so much as think about how much I miss my boyfriend I go into a sobbing fit, worthy of The Notebook ending. It’s ridiculous. Even if we’re sitting at either end of the living room staring into laptops or TVs, it’s just better when he’s here. Bed time? Forget it. I typically don’t sleep well. If at all with that as well. I get him on the weekends, which again, is hard because I just want to spend time with him, but we find ourselves with 18 different sets of plans and places to be. Then, Monday comes and it’s as though he was never here.

More so, we’re still not in a position to determine if we’re staying or going, which is stressful and frustrating and driving me bonkers all at the same time. While I enjoy some level of spontaneity, I think I’ve sharpened my internal planner devices. I feel almost as if my life come Fall is at a stand-still. While I’m working so hard on everything here…

Regardless, even in Pittsburgh, one day I hated it and started crying at the thought of being there wandering all lost (literally and metaphorically) looking at bridges and rivers and figuring out which way is fucking North. Then the next, I’m all, “Oooh, I lurve it here!”

Which so obviously leads me to…

The Hopelessly Menopausal Cat Lady: I’ve never *truly* been much of a crier. I’ve long considered myself fairly stable, uber-resilient and well, too much of a bitch to really care about shit. And too often, the fucking crying has as well caught me off guard. In public. Which I hate more than anything. And it’s uncontrollable.

Seriously, hormones? STFU.

Also, I’m pretty sure I had my first hot flash in Pittsburgh last week. Either that, or I was about to pass out for a number of unexplained reasons. I hope neither of those brings about unwanted facial hair. I didn’t have much of an appetitive at dinner. When we walked into the hotel bar to grab a drink for the room, I got all hot and flushy. Like, once I got to the room, I couldn’t take my clothes off fast enough. Within ten minutes, I was cold again. Do menopausal ladies also get night sweats? Because I have those nearly every night now. And our thermostat is set to 64.

I can’t go spend more time during the week in Pitt because of the cat. Perhaps it’s why some of my resentment and bad mood is focused on him. But I still love the fucker. I mean seriously, I just now pulled the TV antenna out of his mouth. ARGH. Rudy also meows at everything. EVERYTHING . I’m beginning to understand the differences in sound between when he’s hunting and when he’s hungry. It’s usually the latter. Of note: he likes the cactus plant, and he’s been chewing on it. This is weird, right? We’re currently growing some of that cat grass, so in 5-7 more days, hopefully he’ll enjoy chewing at that instead.

While he hasn’t become any more of a lap cat, he does curl up behind me while I’m sitting in my computer chair. The last couple mornings (way too early to write here) I’ve felt him at my face — which, obviously, wakes me up. Setting the auto-feeder has helped quell his loudness in the mornings exponentially.

*sigh*

It’s a bad week.

Sidenote: no sooner than I hit Publish, the cat broke a glass candle holder in the bedroom. We have concrete floors, so there are shards of glass everywhere. Awesome. I’m getting ready to leave. This will now take what’s left of my afternoon to clean up. DEEP BREATH.

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