Right now, in this moment,
…Stella eating her nightly snack and Owen, Rabi, and Gypsy angling to steal bites of it. I can see my bedroom, whose floor is clean because Das BFF vacuumed today like a champion, but I can see the dust layering over everything that doesn’t move. I see my unfolded laundry and the shoes that Shelly will likely steal throughout the day tomorrow. I see my Macbook. I see the great big gouges in my thigh where Owen clawed me this evening after a noise spooked him and he fursploded all over my lap. I see my fingers on the keyboard, speedy and nimble, even though they tremble when I lift them from the keys. My hands are still one of my favorite parts of my body.
…the air conditioner blessedly chugging along. Stella’s ID tag tapping on the side of her bowl. I hear my ceiling fan and the other machines that whir and hum throughout the house to keep us comfortable and fed every day. I am deeply grateful for those machines, especially the AC, without which surviving in Texas summers would be even more miserable. I hear my stomach making noises that remind me if I go too long without eating vegetables or fruits, something as innocent as a slice of apple can send my whole system into a revolt. I can also hear David Attenborough narrating Blue Planet faintly in the living room. I can also hear the occasional boom-pop of firecrackers – but at least it rained most of the day, so the whole neighborhood won’t go up in flames.
…Triloka’s “Enchanted Forest” incense sticks, which are basically the official smell of my bedroom.
Thankfully I do not smell cat pee; someone pissed on my rug a few days ago, and I haven’t been able to find the source of the smell but I’ve been hosing down the rug with Odo-Ban and I think it’s finally faded. ETA they did it again today, so I feel like I have to strike that part. I can also smell my deodorant; I switched to a “man” smell a while back because I don’t want to smell like flowers and the “man” smells are much more the sort of thing I like. Woods, resins. I am a forest, not a basket of fucking peonies.
…the Coke Zero I used to take my meds a minute ago. I still haven’t quite mastered taking pills with water, especially handfuls of them. I couldn’t swallow pills at all until my 20s; back when I got menstrual cramps bad enough to make me spend two days crying, I had to take eight Advil at a time ground up in a pill crusher, in a spoonful of chocolate milk. I’ve never figured out why I had so much trouble with pills, but I’m glad I mostly got over it. I still have trouble with water, though.
…my bed underneath me, sooooo comfortable, even though there are bits of kitty litter grit here and there that I keep finding with my toes. I feel those gouges in my leg, sore and stinging under another layer of antibiotic ointment. I feel a patch of hair on the back of one leg that I missed with the razor. I feel physically comfortable, and emotionally pleased with my day off even though I didn’t feel well for most of it. I still feel the headache I’ve had for three days now, though at the moment it’s at a low thanks to the Advil/pseudoephedrine combo I threw at it. I feel a cat jump up on the bed and start making biscuits in the quilt over my feet. I feel myself smile.Become my patron for exclusive online content and read new stories before anyone else!