The time has come to move the rest of the compost. This is to avoid preparing for two classes I am teaching in the next two months. In my new career as a misanthrope, it is very difficult to imagine classes of students all looking at me expectantly, as if I have anything interesting or intelligible to say. and me coming up with some wise and profound BS. to tell them the truth...I attended a meeting last week and all the people there were many years younger than I. Windbags, all. I am judgmental too, by the way. I can't figure out how to be graceful with my current life so I am cranky and angry and sad. And poetry sucks too.
I told my therapist I can't abide falsehood, I can't bear it. Not anywhere. This becomes a problem because so much discourse IS crap. I hear nonsense coming out of someone and I have to leave, like literally get up and leave before I say something impolite, so not good girl behavior. I've taken to spending more and more time by myself so I don't inflict much damage.
Someone will ask how I am, all solicitous, and my body starts to vibrate, the evil comments begin to spin in my head and before I say something I might regret, like, I feel crazy and murderous, and you? I extricate myself and leave the room. The cats and I get along just fine. They are unpredictable and so am I. Watch it, I might take out your eye.
Wishbone got his tubes taken out of his face yesterday. And he lost the cone, thank g-d. he looks like a feline John McCain, one side of his face all shaved with holes in it. Pretty.