Is there anyone out there that actually KNOWS how to relax?
Genuinely? Truly? Because,
It would seem, I do not.
Or can not. I have no clue which it is.
But today is an absolutely gorgeous day, 69 degrees ( which is a veritable heat wave for us Washingtonians) and sunny, sunny, sunny.
So what do I do?
I look for my cat Zabu. Who apparently does not understand he is not allowed to leave the compound.
Yeah, I said compound.
I have walked into the empty lot next door ( all the while preparing myself for finding an injured cat) and called for him. "ZAboooo".....
My other car Manny is right next to me, chirping away in addition to my wailing.
Yes, Manny chirps. So does Zabu. They must be part bird.
SO anyway, Manny is chirping away, I am yelling and....no Zabu.
My neighbor across the creek ( and I use the term loosely, as I have never met her) asks me what/who I am looking for?
My "he will be the death of me 6 month old kitten/cat, have you seen him?"
She looks into the creek, slowly exhales and says: "no". Then goes back to her weeding.
She looks relaxed.
So back to it I go.
I do this for 2 and a half hours, mind you.
I am close to a breaking point.
Do not judge me, my animals are my children.
So I call Michael.
Yeah, cause THAT'S gonna help me a LOT.
"Maybe he doesn't WANT to hear you Colleen" he says.
Breathe Colleen. Then I plop into a chair in the sun, to try to get some color other than translucent for the wedding. And try not to cry.
Then Zabu walks up to me, and yawns. Where the heck did he just come from?!?!?
Oh,Oh, then he runs to the wall and hops over to the street side!
I walk out to the street and so as not to appear maniacal, I talk to my boxer neighbor, BEFORE I try to grab my cat.
To ease into it, I discuss the manny pacquiao vs shane mosley fight with him.
I am kinda listening to him. Really I am.
But I am also using my peripheral vision in search of a small black cat lurking in the shadows of his house.
We discuss the purse the loser got ( wasn't it like 5 million guaranteed?) and he tell me he won his last fight in a 5 round TKO. See? I was kinda listening.
Then Mr.Zabu decides he wants in on the conversation and rubs up against the boxer's leg.
For me, you yawn.
So now that my cat is somewhere in the vicinity and I know he is still alive, I am gonna try to tan.
I see a beetle struggling in the pool.
Big sigh. I get up, rescue him with the net. Sit back down.
A van pulls up to the empty lot next door. I am suspicious. Rightly so, because, it IS an empty lot on a private road, right?
I discreetly peer over my brick wall. ( Where IS Zabu?) Then the guy opens the side doors ( this is where I am convinced he is going to toss a long rolled up carpet (with a dead body in it,of course) into the lot.
Ok, I may have misjudged. He pulls of the weedwacker and other various garden tools.
Oh no! No relief! What if he cuts up Zabu?!?!?!
I told you I cannot relax!
Even as I sit here in the sun with my laptop, I may be typing. But I am also listening to the weedwacker, waiting for a cat's cry, trying to get the dog to stop nudging me with his nose,
wondering what just crawled on me ( get off!!)and thinking I may have to go inside to get some pharmaceutical help.
Again, I say, don't you judge me.
All I wanted to do was relax and get some color.
Instead, I am wound tighter than a top ( whatever the heck THAT means) and I am still translucent.
Where is that Seagram's Cooler?