One of the cats came into my room earlier this morning (it’s 7:10 am) & in an otherwise wonderful and welcome moment of affectionate introductions that was obviously well intended, if a bit inconsiderate – it wreaked absolute havoc on my life. The selfish feline actually did more damage – in mere seconds – to my terrible macbook filing system than any hacker could’ve dared to. WHO FUCKS AROUND WITH PEOPLE’S FILING SYSTEMS. Only a cat could get away with it. Like it – jumps on my balcony, noisily demands I get out of bed – meowing a “fuck your dreamscape, I demand assistance” and of course I then kindly open the door to let it go to the kitchen, but that’s not actually what the cat fucking wants. It suffers with some prolonged indecision as to whether it wants to be in my room or not in my room. So I set aside my feelings about being dragged out of bed to hold a door open like some kind of discreet, all hours concierge service and it decides that it’d actually quite like to engage in some quality cuddle time rather than quietly and politely exit my room.

Cats do not actually slot their social behaviours into time schedules in the way that humans are inclined to (I mean – y’know how people generally just accept at some point in life, that 6AM isn’t an appropriate time to exchange sentiments of affection) but cats don’t share that social law, apparently. That cat was haphazardly walking backwards and forwards repeatedly on my laptop keyboard and quite void of any guilt, and completely ignored my protests that it cease. Was this some test to determine my capacity to love unconditionally? Because NO HUMAN BEING COULD GET AWAY WITH DOING THAT TO ME.

That cat not only disconnected and changed the name of my hard-drive, it changed the root destinations and shortcuts connecting a lot of work to software I’ve become accustomed to just leaving open… without even saving.
The cat has made photoshop impossible to save documents on.

A fantastic disruption upon my life – of which the functionality of my laptop is actually fully dependent on.

Obviously I can’t confront the cat, because – firstly, it hasn’t even told me it’s name – and we’re housemates so it’d be potentially a bit awkward to create conflict in the house so early on – but worse yet: I know it’d be adamant to pretend it can’t understand me (cats have many consequence-evading tricks at their disposal – that enable them to get away with literally fucking everything) but for future reference, I wonder: how do you convey with appropriate sincerity the kind of upset you experience when something lovingly fucks up the ONE functional thing in your life?
And if I said that to this cat, what if they in return said “that is like, my one talent in life” – could I cope with the guilt for shitting on someone’s talents?

Like, do you smile and say with appropriately hidden aggression “mischievous cat, in seconds you did more damage to my terrible macbook filing system (AND THEREFORE MY ENTIRE FUCKING LIFE) than any hacker could’ve dreamt of – and yet still wouldn’t of – because WHO THE FUCK JUST MESSES AROUND WITH SOMEONES SHORTCUTS LIKE THAT? THATS RUDE!!!!!” or do you just fully accept that they could never truly understand what they are expecting us to put up with from their race?

I might leave a little sticky note somewhere saying “YOU ARE AN INCONVENIENCE TO ME”. I won’t sign it though, it’ll be a diplomatically anonymous and open letter to all cats, from all non-cats (although we probably share a pretty decent set of chromosomes). Although really that’s probably what the cat feels about me. 

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I wore these booties, (if you have weird feet and find a pair of shoes that works for you – buy more than one pair. Genius life hack.) a stained cardigan and a messy samurai knot to the chicken shop. That was actually when one of the local people deemed it appropriate to initiate conversation. Actually she was really sweet and I enjoyed talking to her for a few minutes of my day. I obviously won’t make a habit of it. The one thing I like about London is that people don’t just start talking to each other on the streets, as if they’re in some kind of Utopian Disney movie. She was also very complimentary for someone who has lived in London for any kind of extended period of time.

I bought salad and protein (inexpensive bacon – not the most inexpensive bacon, about twenty pence more expensive) at the cornershop (the cornershop now sells ridiculously overpriced avocado, coriander and lemon – which is a step up from a million years ago. On the negative, the person running it doesn’t understand hotdogs at all.) and I’m glad I did because two out of my six chicken nuggets were smacked out of my hand and onto the pavement, by the very rude wind. I noticed that a lot of people like to walk their dogs around that area, so someone’ll probably have snacked on those nuggets by now and I’m consoled by the fact, because – sometimes – the ‘possibility; for the potential for others to somehow benefit from my misfortune are my only consolation in life. Like my life sucks sometimes (I dropped two chicken nuggets that I was so excited about eating that I actually ate them on the streets rather than getting home and using like, a plate and cutlery) and a cat might’ve actually broken my laptop and my harddrive (it didn’t dw) but I got to write something about it and maybe someone might enjoy reading it and the idea of that makes me happy. Really

Life is full of risks – and both big and seemingly insignificant decisions that can fully influence your emotional landscape; but if you can’t find a way to enjoy those, you’re fucked. Life becomes stagnant and boring and monotonous and lacking.
That might be the only aspect of life you can find any kind of security in – it’s challenging nature – be okay with it – and actually that might be the penultimate lesson that I will ever feel fully qualified to share with the World, a means of coping with abandonment issues (we all have them but some of us realise in childhood) and impermanence. Humour and sublimating the life experience into some piece of art is the only way to truly get through it.


In other news I have bacon, I have salad, I have oil and lemon – and it’s 8:20 AM which means its an appropriate time to have an epic carb-free breakfast (I’d actually love some fluffy white bread – the cheaper and the fluffier the loaf, the better – but I’m quite irresponsible with bread and all carbs)…

I used bleach spray to clean the upstairs toilet – which took a good few minutes (a task performed with – frankly – saintly patience in light of the fact that I actually really needed to pee)

Some selfish prick vomited into it and left it looking like a complete fucking mess. It really doesn’t matter who did it – but  IF I FIND OUT THAT IT WAS THE INCONSIDERATE AND ENTITLED CAT THAT DEEMED IT ACCEPTABLE TO WAKE ME FOR CUDDLES AT SIX IN THE MORNING I will be absolutely FURIOUS

Published by KARINITA

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