In ways I have been busy. In other ways, I just don’t have any ambition. I’ve been lacking motivation for original content. I read about a guy who rescued his cat while his truck was washed away over on Catster (forgive me for not updating my links if they are missing) and a new article on feline asthma provided by my veterinarian’s newsletter. I’ve been trying to look for work again, turning on utilities for the new rental soon, and watching my cat become increasingly uneasy as my significant other dismantles our apartment for the move.

Tommy doesn’t like this place being torn upside down. Tommy wants snacks. Snacks make us feel better.

I’m still hyper-focused on food. He takes after me. I’m watching my apartment be dismantled and boxed up and claustrophobic from boxes and packing looming ahead of me as well as my vacation to my parents and I want snacks. Snacks make us feel better.

I am out of Reeses Peanut Butter Cups.

Peanut butter is my new thing. I used to watch my sister eat it by the tablespoonfuls as we were growing up and I never saw the appeal. Now, I want peanut butter and I want to put hot sauce on everything.

And my cat is causing a scene in my kitchen at least four times a day, calling the other cats in, hoping to peer pressure me into giving him snacks.
We are ridiculous.

Then I smile sheepishly to myself as I gently rub my fingers along the side of the back of my neck, just behind the ear, because that’s where I have Tom’s paw prints tattooed.