Decisions, Simplified

Yesterday the cat got out of the house. She snuck off, quiet-like, and dropped the story-and-a-half down to the ground so she could see what all the fuss was about. We'd been leaving the house and then coming back and then leaving again for as long as she could remember, and in between these machinations she'd bounce a ball on the wall and wait for it to bounce back, counting the days she'd been cooped up. Naturally the dog would have to chase it and there would be some perfunctory hissing and then he'd give it back and she'd toss it at the wall, counting. She would not have lost her place because she's a cat.

The best part about losing your cat is that everything snaps into action: your vision clears so that you can see the hawks circling, your ears pick up much more sound, including any high-pitched skreeeeeee from the neighbor's mower that could be mistaken for a cat provided said cat were being mangled, your breathing swells to accompany the panic-y thought of finding the animal and the ensuing attempt to pick it up. All this because your eleven-year-old's face is making a frown that will not turn upside-down no matter how many times you jokingly order it to do so. All the regular shit (and the irregular shit when you come right down to it) disappears like lightning and you can see what you have to do: tape flyers on everything. Yeah. Tape Flyers on Everything. You've been waiting. It's such parenting legend, such a milestone, that you can easily bring yourself to near-tears imagining how fucked up your kid is going to be if they don't lose their cat: how will they cope? Where will they learn the valuable life-lesson and current #3 Parenting Buzzword resiliency if they don't lose their/the family's pet? Will your child grow up not knowing the value of Taping Flyers to Everything? My God: what if your genius child goes to college not knowing- what if they start a band?? It'll be too late! No one's gonna teach them now! They'll end up practicing in your conservatory every night until 9:30 and insist that for their birthday you continue their guitar lessons  forever!!

I'm a big fan of anything that will keep me motivated right now. I'm switching medications. The old ones were being rude to me by demanding my liver and kidneys and skin flush them out but they were poor tenants, using up all the hot water and refusing to bring down the tea plates so that mice sniff around (not that I have anything against mice, but I'm writing metaphorically here.) I mean they were the drug lord's cousin, all smiles and yessing but then sitting around drinking all of the Yoo-Hoo and putting wedges under your desk when you go to the bathroom...wait...I mean the drugs were, like, crows and the crows' brothers were elephants (just roll with me) who would be disappointed when the crows wouldn't dance, not even the hustle (see? So worth it!) I'm swimming in this neurochemical pool of mild mood shifting, and when I can look at it straight it feels like I can't decide whether or not to be in a good mood. The new pills are working, and it's making me suspicious. 

Naturally I can't decide what to be suspicious of: am I normally in a good-enough mood and the chemicals are masking that and  forcing this new, complacent fair mood on me? Am I one of those people for whom a good mood is just not really possible without some external support? Is it all a hoax perpetuated on the privileged white woman's health insurance, individual liver function be damned (CUE BIG PHARMA CEO TWIRLING MOUSTACHE, GRINNING EVIL STEEL-TOOTHED SMILE?) I think it's most probable that I've just been experiencing stress. For years. Lots of big, life-threatening, world-shattering, pelvic-floor-weakening, down-the-wrong-neural-path-making, pulling-clothes-out-of-a-sooty-wet-heap-happening, funeral-frequenting, present-forgetting, name-dropping-and-not-in-a-presumptuous-but-more-of-a-forgetting-your-best-friends'-name-way-sort-of-dropping, giant sucking chest would of a life. Not all of the time but...you know...enough. 

There is a plan, though. I have a quest (sadly, there will be no genius illustrator/directors on this quest- but I'll smile if I crass any bridges.) I must teach my girl how to go door-to-door and ask the regular strangers if they've seen the cat, and I'll teach her how to tape flyers to absolutely everything. This is a life skill that she will never need, because of computers and such, but she'll learn it. It will make me feel good to teach it to her, and since we live in a neighborhood full of biddies who haven't had their nephews teach them how to use the internet yet, the quarter-pound of printer paper she used to make up flyers will actually help her get her cat back.