Nighttime at the Obfuscated Iconoclasm Household

by theobfuscatedone

Cat- "Look, if you let me go outside, I promise not to do anything stupid like chase another animal right off the edge of the balcony. " Me- "I can't even trust you not to run into the wall when you're chasing your ball. No." He runs into the wall all the time. My cat has all the grace of me.

The title isn’t quite right.  It’s actually very early morning at the obfuscated iconoclasm household.  Instead of doing something as prosaic as sleeping, I’ve been following my cat around, fiddling with the settings on my DSLR, trying, in vain, to capture the orange guy in one of his really adorable poses.  Instead, I captured the “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am pissed off.” pose.

Cat- "Your reaction times are woefully slow." Me- "I have opposable thumbs." Cat- "Haven't really done you any good, have they?" (looks pointedly at my black, slightly deformed thumb.)

I try to avoid the whole “crazy cat lady” persona.  I will never dress him in anything (I would need a blood transfusion after attempting that.)  Baby talk is insulting to my intelligence and he only speaks cat, i.e. feed me.  feed me now.  if you don’t feed me now I will eat your hair.  that’s it, where do you want the scratches this time? (he fancies himself e.e. cummings and refuses to use capitalization. Pretentious fuck.)  Obviously, I do anthropomorphize him (What’s anthropomorphizing?  It’s when humans, after realizing their fellow humans are idiots, search for intelligence in other life forms.)  Other than performing his side of the conversation as well as my own, he and I are more like roommates.  He’s the weirdo who tries to eat my hair in the morning (while it’s still attached to my head.  He has standards.) and refuses to use anything other than a box hidden in a dark corner for bathroom facilities.  I’m the one who leaves the dishes out, eats whenever I want,  and frequently reminds him that since I’m bigger and have opposable thumbs, I’m in control.  To which he responds, “You’re delusional.”  I have to agree.

I love the night.  Sometimes I pull on a sweatshirt and socks and go sit on my balcony and stargaze.  I’m always fascinated by the fact that what we see as stars, are actually remnants of the deaths of celestial bodies, just now reaching us.  It’s cooler and quieter.  Most people are asleep, meaning I don’t have to work to avoid them.

Classes start on Monday.  I’m excited but nervous.  I start TAing on Monday.  I have classes four days a week, a first in my higher ed career.  I have a feeling that late nights, like tonight, are going to either be non-existent or for strictly utilitarian purposes, i.e. late nights for writing papers (the bread and butter of grad students.)  I plan on maintaing my no all nighter rule.  Late nights are one thing, staying up all night and into the next day, whatever the reason, is dumb.

Ok, one last picture of the (sort of) man of the house:

Cat- "I know, I'm adorable." Me- "Me too."

Time for bed.  Tomorrow is for errands and more prep work for school (I have to fill out my second calendar [I have two at all times.  The likelihood that I will forget one or the other is strong.  Forgetting both?  Slim.])  I have my ceramic project handout and visual presentation pretty much done.  I really want to get back into the studio.  I think Thursday will be devoted to that.  I thought I would be ready for school when it finally showed up.  Now that it’s starting next week, I feel totally unprepared.  Why does it feel like life has once again changed drastically?