I got more of the kitchen put into order over the weekend. I still have all my pots, pans, various cooking impediments on my kitchen table. I'm trying to sort them all out and figure out how to organize my cabinets better. I still haven't found that pressure regulator valve for my pressure cooker. I may have to write it off. What a thing to lose. Sheesh. I also filed the much-damned taxes. When I see how much of my hard-earned money is going to vile thieving politicians to waste on pandering and boon-doggling I am completely outraged. I'm not out to hang the bastards; it's their "supporters" and the brainless zombies who vote for them who are the problem, but if shit hits the fan I will be hard-pressed to shed a bitter tear for any of the bastards if they find themselves jerking at the end of ropes. Ah well, the empire is rotting...old joke.
I was worried about Kuu yesterday. She tried urinating in my bedroom, which she almost never does, she hid out, in the closet, under an end table in the living room, and under the bed for almost the entire day and she did not touch her food. She didn't race me to the kitchen yesterday. I had been planning to take her to the vet this morning, but when the alarm clock went off, she resumed our old routine like nothing had changed. When I went to feed her I found that she had eaten yesterday's meal, eventually. Her appetite seems OK this morning. I wonder what was bothering her.
Things are still getting a little clearer with respect to what happened with Laurel. I get twinges of sadness, so far but there is now a full-blown debate ongoing among my inner-people. I'm still trying to figure out what to make of things, but the issues won't get off the front burner, so I don't know. One step at a time. I'm getting better about getting more useful insights from my internals but it is still slow. It is hard, very hard, and the source of much internal debate, the fact that parts of me miss her and parts of me are upset, hurt, and angry over what she said to me. A particular faction of my peeps tell me that I am too old for this shit, that I need something less "complicated" and that I'm chasing my tail obsessing over what went wrong and how much of things I should take seriously from her and what I should write off as her own hobgoblins acting poorly. Why do things have to be so asininely complicated? Parts of me are very eager to tell me that I should have seen this coming. Maybe I should have. We live and we learn. I'm wondering how long this phase will continue.