It's a mess

Our house is. We haven't lived together very long so haven't built up a good communication system yet. We trust each other, vaguely, but that trust is based on friendship and not on the reality of living together. And now that trust got a kick in the nuts. Blaim and anguish are being tossed around. Why? WHY? Because of the fucking cats. They're gone. AGAIN. We had 2 happy days of living with them and their first opportunity for escape they took it. I can't believe I have to live with this stress again. That was one of the worst periods of my non-depressed life (LIFEb), trying to find the Cheat last spring. I'm very angry, but I don't want to upset anyone further so I'm hiding here in my room right now. I'm afraid I'll say something useless and terrible if I go up there.

On another level I feel it's all my fault the cats are gone because I was bitching to Kris last night about the closed laundry door, since that door falls off the track. I got her to help open it, not realizing Joe had closed it to block access to the laundry room window.

On yet another level I feel terrible for Joe and Kris. I know the blame game is just because of how upset they are. I can't imagine what it's like to be them. $6000. Long distance The Cheat Recovery Operation. Waiting waiting waiting. Friends getting mad at us for putting them through hell and worry preparing the cats for their journey. Cats in quarantine. More waiting. Cats are here! They look great! It was all worth it, I love....wait, where are the cats? FUUUUUCCCCKKKKK!

Ah, I had so many other things building up to write about. Things about walls and David Foster Wallace. He writes like there are no walls between his characters. It's a smooth run from brain to brain, censored thought to reality's actions. I feel out of control, sliding through his world in a matterless way.

Alright, I did get one thing not pertaining to the cats out. Sweet. This cat thing really isn't made any easier by the presence of Kris' parents either. I can feel her being stretched thinner and thinner as she continually tries to make everyone have a good time. Her parents are a huge drain on our young system. There is no spare energy. Barely enough oxygen. I'm in hiding from them too. It reminds me of my shortest relationship, when Marc Rios and I had a 2 week fling in college. At one point I got weirded out and hid from him for 2 days. I used the outdoor deck stairs to get from my room to the kitchen and outdoors. He called me out on it, which was a relief, so maybe I'm using this blog entry to call myself out. Hiding in your own home is for losers. I don't get why non-murderous humans scare me so much.