Oh my God I'm the Cat Lady, and I don't even have any cats.
It all started yesterday. My roomie stayed home sick. I was there too because I am unemployed, hence the title of my blog. (Hey, wouldn't it be cool if my roomie was a dinosaur? Then it would be, like, full circle or...whatever. K, I still love you even though you are clearly not a dinosaur. But if you WERE a dinosaur, it'd be like you were the star of my blog.)
I need to stop drinking coffee.
So. Rooomie, sick. She was complaining that her ears were plugged so I suggested this earwax removal stuff I happened to have. (Slightly gross, I know, but deal with it.) I pretty much forced her to agree and be my patient. I ran into my bathroom to grab my bag of Random and Expired Medicine. I took care of K and proudly sat back on the couch and obtrusively watched the crap drain out of her ears. And then I became the Cat Lady.
It went like this. My eyes drifted over to the coffee table where I had left my bag. It's actually a travel toiletry bag my mom had given me many, many Christmases ago. And it has cats all over it. Creepy, bubbly drawings of cats dressed as fishermen and ballerinas with the words "Cat Lover" stamped all over it.
I sat transfixed, horrified at what I had become. I couldn't stop staring at it, every detail, realizing I had never really looked at it before. I don't have a cat. Okay, that's not entirely true. When I was a teenager, a friend gave me a stray cat, who to this day still lives at my mom's house. (My mom gave me the cat bag that same year so it's not entirely crazy that I own that bag.)
But the whole thing just creeps me out. If you have a kid, you don't wear a shirt that says "Kid Lover" unless you're a freak, right? And this isn't my mom's fault. It was just a silly gift she gave her snot-headed 16 year-old daughter instead of a belly ring.
It's the fact that I still have it and use it that creeps me out and makes me question what image I have been unknowingly projecting all these years.
When I would go to slumber parties, were my friends all, "Who invited freaky Cat Lady?"
When I first arrived at college, did the co-eds in my dorm make a mental note to never speak to me? When I brought it out to "treat" K, was she secretly terrified that I might try to put a flea collar on her and build her a scratching post?
I know I'm not the Cat Lady, but does the world know?
P.S. K is cured!
P.P.S. I threw out the cheese.