The year started off with a magnificent full moon, but I forgot to go outside and see it. It gave me an excuse to thank my friends for putting up with all my Moon jokes in 2017. On social media, and in conversation anytime someone mentions, the moon, regardless of context, I almost compulsively comment as if they are talking about me. My last name is, Moon, get it? My sense of humor is not everyone’s cup of tea, but it is not nearly as groan worthy as my father’s was. I blame my, inner 12 year old, my favorite, “get out of maturity” card.
By the way, this gorgeous painting is by an artist named, Jana Ireijo. It’s only $450. If I had a wall to hang it on, I’d probably be batting my eyelashes and saying, “please” a lot, right now.
Part One: Not Exactly Flush With Festive Spirit, My Inner Virgo, Pulls Out My To Do List
I have to say, I wasn’t sorry to see 2017 go, but I wasn’t feeling particularly excited about 2018 either. My situation is still a challenge, my soul still feels like it is weighed down by a stack of pianos topped by a vengeful elephant who is not tickled by the ivories! The ugliness that crowns our country is still swirling through it the way that murky flood waters churn, hiding shit and disease, dangerous objects and death. I don’t see much improvement on the horizon without a proper shakeup. Yes, it could happen, but I’m just not excited.
I was so, not feeling anything, this time around that I couldn’t even dig up a smidge of envy at the revelers gushing of their plans to party and dance the night away. I had nowhere to go. I didn’t feel up to making myself shiny and putting on a festive face. For once, the idea of kissing someone at midnight didn’t even glimmer in my mind. My loneliness was barely a blip on my radar. I just wanted it to be tomorrow already, to mark off another day of gears grinding. Honestly, my apathy was liberating.
I didn’t have any work, but I have been caring for my roommate’s cat. He’s been traveling a lot lately. He was home briefly and left again without buying cat litter and I had already used up the last of LiLi’s litter, adding it to his cat, Ichi’s box. Things were getting smelly. I had to buy cat litter for both of them now, and so I ended up at Safeway on New Year’s Eve with two plastic jugs of gritty clay in my cart, while everyone else was buying alcohol. You know you have reached the climax of full blown Cat Lady Spinsterhood when you spend your New Year’s Eve at Safeway, buying cat litter for your roommate’s cat. At least I put on lipstick and combed my hair first and I wasn’t in my bathrobe. Go me!
As if restocking the cat toilet on New Year’s Eve wasn’t awkward enough, I happened to step into line behind a former neighbor in the checkout.