What up homies?
For the past 4 days my cat has been on a hunger strike. For the first day I didn't pay much attention, to be honest I thought she was being a little bitch! But then the second day arrived and she still hadn't eaten anything and I started to worry, she was also playing hide and seek in the garden and refused to come when anyone called her. The 3rd day went much the same but I managed to bribe her with tuna. Now it's the fourth day (this is really interesting isn't it?) and I've buckled, I've given into her demands and I drove down to Sainsbury's to purchase kitty crack - Whiskers. She loved it. She only ate half of it *sigh* so I brought out the big guns, I offered her some ham. Not the shitty wafer thin ham that's like 20% water but like the good stuff but she refused to eat it until I also had a piece first, then she devoured it. Moral of this story? I think my cat's paranoid and no one should ever, EVER underestimate their power. I think she was one day from attacking me in my sleep. I'm deadly serious.
As you can probably tell that has been the highlight of my week. It really has. It has also helped me procrastinate. I really don't want to pack, I don't want to clean my medical kit, I don't want to have to make a list of all the things I've put in said backpack, I don't want to say goodbye to anyone, I just want to leave, in the middle of the night, stealth like, with a note left on the dining room table saying "Gone to Cambodia, see you in 5 months".
I woke up this morning in a panic, I looked around my room and it's mess and I concluded that one: I should probably clean my room and two: I should probably pack because I leave in 6 days. I don't think the countdown helps me, I think it's a countdown to hysteria, I can feel it building. Bubbling under the surface of my denial. So I've decided to pack this week full of lovely things to do to take my mind of the inevitable. It mostly involves having drinks with a handful of my favourite people and filling the rest of those nights with art and crafty things oh and being cooked dinner. Which I'm very much looking forward to. I love not cooking. The man friend said he'll come round and cook me dinner and well to be honest I'm a little curious. I don't know what it'll be, seeing as you know we've never actually gone to dinner, because it's not that kind of relationship...if that makes sense. It's all very confusing isn't it? And this blog is just another way for me to put off actually doing anything.
I have been having really fucked up dreams lately. Yesterday's dream involved me trying to escape from a cult and then I managed to escape but then somehow I ended up there again and then they made me perform in a big show and I couldn't quite remember the dance moves and their was a guy who lived on top of a giant flea and oozed a bug like oil. Like I said, fucked up. The man friend says it's all the books I've been reading that are a bit on the weird side and you know, words have a deeper effect then we realise (his words not mine) but I dunno. The last book I read was "Shadow of the Wind" by Carlos Ruis Zafon and if you haven't read it then I think you should and no it won't give you nightmares and yes it is a superbly written piece of literature. There was a description of a demon/dream like creature that I thought would give me nightmares but it didn't. I think I just have an overactive imagination. Or I feel like I'm living in a cult? Answers on a postcard please.
So what else is there to say? I leave in six days. Six whole days. Let's hope they go as slowly as possible.
Heres hoping.
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