You see, what happened was this:
Fallen snowflakes drifted too and fro just beyond the window. They danced around the evergreens and over the pavement into the field. They swirled, dipped, and whooshed as the frozen air gripped them in a frigid dance as we snuggled deep beneath our covers, ensconced safely behind warm walls. We sighed as our bodies shifted in the night, exhaling once our forms readjusted and settled in for a few more moments of rest.
A feline form crept up the stairs, devious behaviour on her mind. She rounded the corner into our room as we slept, as she does every morning about this time. Her shadowy figure slid along the wall, searching for something, anything, which with to play. Foiled, she turned toward the bed, slithering deftly under it. She then flipped to her back, extended her claws, and “SCRAAAAAAATCH!” No movement. “SCRAAAAAAAAAAAAAATTTTCCCHHHH!” Slight rustling. “SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH!” More rustling. “SCRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATTTTTCHHHHHHHH!”
Squeak. Feet hitting the floor. She scurried out into the open, joyous to see a standing human in the dark room. He stumbled toward her, she ran toward him. Just as she reached him, his arms extended to scoop her up. He carried her toward the door, tossed her unceremoniously into the hallway, closing the door behind her. She heard his footsteps as he went back to bed.
She sat there, in the hallway, staring at the closed door. Then she looked down at the worn carpet on the left side, where the door opened in to the bedroom. She walked closer, and started pawing at the carpet, pushing against the door and rattling it as she did so. Scratch, rattle, rattle, rattle. SCRAAAATTTCH. RATTTTLLLLLLEEEEEE.
Loud sighs. “KITTTTY! NO!”
Rustled covers, feet hitting the floor. Toward the door? She stopped, briefly, listening. Footsteps in the wrong direction. SCRAAATTTCHHHH. Door opened. Cat wins.
I looked at the clock – 530am.
Wide awake, I started talking, I think I babbled about the weather. We snuggled, he fell back asleep briefly, until the cat started to claw at the bottom of the bed again. Clearly, waking us up wasn’t enough. No, she needed prompt attention. I sighed, and got up to stumble downstairs for coffee. The cat hid behind the wall along the staircase, ready to pounce on me as I made my way down the stairs. She ran quickly ahead of me, nearly tangling herself in between my feet as I navigated the steps. I muttered a curse or two at her.
Once downstairs, I turned into the kitchen, my goal destination, the Keurig. Instead, I turned toward the refrigerator and grabbed an English muffin. Sustenance. Then coffee. I threw the first one away and nearly tore the second one in half but saving it at the last minute. As the muffin basked in the red glow of the electrified wires, I grabbed a k-cup and a coffee cup. I stared at the Keurig’s water reservoir and turned to the bottled water on our counter, opening the cabinet and staring at the glasses instead.
Just then, J came downstairs and rescued me, grabbing the water and pouring it in the reservoir. I drowsily thanked him and hit the brew button once he was finished. I took my medicine, then buttered the muffin after it was ejected from the warm toaster, grabbed my coffee, and somehow made it to the couch.
Then, time was a blur. We talked a little more, decided to run errands after taking the little one to school, and once we arrived home from errands, I dove into research for my book. At some point, either before or after my first coffee (I honestly don’t remember), I watched the remainder of a documentary I started the night before, taking notes, which led to my research this afternoon. I fell down quite the rabbit hole, linking this to that from this and then heading over here and then over there and then suddenly, my head hurt so I stepped away and made a cheesecake.
Doesn’t everyone make cheesecake once they’ve researched too much? Don’t they? If they don’t, clearly they are not fans of the Golden Girls. One of the most important lessons I learned from dear Dorothy, Sophia, Blanche, and Rose was that cheesecake fixes EVERYTHING, particularly when shared with friends. I pity the poor souls who are not aware of this universal rule.
And now, I am watching Big Bang Theory, trying to unwind. I may go get another piece of cheesecake.
It has been so freeing to write about just…anything here. For far too long, I had convinced myself that I could only write about Perinatal Mood Disorders. Writing about a full day like this reminds me that I am human and not just some thing meant to spout stuff about Perinatal Mood Disorders. I hope that it’s been enjoyable for you as well as I have blathered on about my days here – they’re relatively nondescript, I know. But they are days, nonetheless. Days after a long, embroiled battle through hell which taught me the hard way to not take anything for granted.
My goal is to eventually return to writing about Perinatal Mood Disorders again but for now, daily writing is a step in the right direction.
Mindful, simple steps in the right direction are better than no steps at all.