a) bored of my recent miserable, moany blog posts
b) a BIG FAN of my recent miserable, moany blog posts and in fact wish that all the blogs you read were as moany and depressing as mine?
Oh, I'm so glad you say b)...
Last night 'that guy I was seeing for a bit' came into the pub to collect his jumper- I suggested posting it or getting it to him through a friend of a friend of a mutual friend- but he said "Wouldn't it be easier just to meet?"
Hmm, for him maybe. I can forget people easily, as long as I don't see them or hear from them. But when they keep messaging... it's like having a tin of biscuits on the table with no lid on and saying "I won't eat any."
Put the lid on it and wait for your tea.
In the end I told him to pop into the pub. I thought it would be busy and there wouldn't be time to talk, but when he walked in there was nobody at the bar. I had the jumper waiting in a plastic bag behind the bar and I passed it to him as quickly as possible.
"How you been?"
"How's your cat?"
"Yeah he's good..."
"Pint of Guinness please."
I had to pour him a pint, take the money from him and give him his change. I had to try really hard not to smile but a bit of a grin crept out and he saw. He started smiling too and for a second it was like 'the conversation' had never happened. I went downstairs to get some more ice, telling myself to stop it. When I came up he was still there, stood at the end of the bar, blending in with all the over men in black coats and scarves, having after work drinks.
He tried to make a couple of jokes, start a conversation, luckily we got busy and we didn't get another chance to talk. Then out of the corner of my eye I saw him put down his pint and make to leave, so I looked at him and said bye. He gave me a weird look. I couldn't tell if he was sad or VERY ANGRY (remember he only has four emotions to choose from) or something in between... He said bye too and it felt final... It's annoying because I thought we'd already said goodbye for the last time. Saying goodbye again last night took me by surprise.
After he left I started crying! I was so surprised at myself. I think I just hate saying good bye to people, when I was little I used to stand at the door crying when it was time for my friends to go home. I hate saying goodbye to people now, if I had my way social events would just mysteriously finish and nobody would remember getting home.
That sounds like I want to date-rape all my friends.
Forget the date-rape for a minute, can we go back to my important issue? My issue is that I have no issues. I think I was so upset because I knew how ridiculous the whole situation was. Other people get upset because their boyfriend moves to Kazakhstan (if you're thinking 'who the hell has that ever happened to?' then my friend who shall remain nameless can vouch for me that this is a very upsetting and realistic situation) or because their girlfriend wants to put on animal masks and go dogging (again I have some friends who can vouch for this... because they watched it happen in a documentary): I got upset because I went on a few 'breezy' dates with someone and then decided I didn't want to be 'breezy' anymore.
I got home from work about half twelve and the cat wanted to go out. Rushdie's owner Chloe had been round in the day to wait in for our new oven (which wasn't installed last week for Some Reason, after all the trouble I went to of organising Take Your Cat To Work Day) and she decided to try letting him outside. He loved it and Chloe said he didn't venture too far. When I got home he was meowing to go out, so I opened the back door and watched him slink into the night garden.
For a while he stayed near the door, cautious, then he sped off into the darkness. Just before I went to bed I tried to call him in, but he didn't come. I went to bed worried. How long can cats stay out for? At home our cats have always gone out at night, but not all night. I set two alarms for 4am and 5am, in case he turned up in the early hours expecting to be let in.
At 4am there was nothing. At 5am it was light outside and I stood in my pyjamas, calling his name quietly. It was raining softly. No meow. I woke up at 8am and Rushdie still wasn't in the garden. I worried that he'd gone too far and had run away, or gotten in a fight with one of the local #CATS (like #LADS but they have spiky willies*), or found his way onto the road at the front.
Why did I fucking let him out?? I could have had him curled up on the end of my bed and instead, he was lost. I texted Chloe and she told me not to worry, she didn't think he'd venture far. In the end I put my coat on and went exploring. I called his name and suddenly thought I heard a little meow under the noise of the rain pitter-pattering on the plastic chairs and table. It's funny, but I've never looked round our garden properly. There's a little shed I hadn't noticed before and Rushdie was in there, hiding behind a plank of wood.
I carried him inside and thought we might have an emotional reunion, but he scrabbled to get out of my arms as soon as we got inside and trotted off to see what was going on in the hall cupboard. I wonder what goes on in that cupboard. If it's shut he scratches and whines to get in, then he doesn't come out for half an hour. When he comes out, his pupils are massive and black like he's been bombing catnip. Maybe there is a cat rave warehouse in there. There's a little door at the bottom that leads to a secret place and even though Natalie pointed out that it just leads to underneath the bath; I think maybe it leads to the strobe room in the Cave Rave! It makes sense!
*They do! Cats have spikes on their willies and when they have sex the spikes stick out and lock in. I'm 99% sure this is a True Fact and not something I made up by accident.