One of the benefits of residency is that I get to uproot my life every few years, ditching the nagging responsibility of upholding friendships with even my closest friends. As an added bonus, this means I get to collect friends like I used to collect snow globes–the more, the merrier! Ah, the extrovert’s dream.
One of my most recent friends is a writer, like me, which is what initially sparked the bond between us. We spend a lot of time motivating each other through the writers’ block and applauding each other through the successes. But a friendship cannot be all good times. We have struggles, as does any relationship. Most recently I’ve had to learn how to appear outwardly as though I support her enthusiasm for cats.
She got a cat hoodie for Christmas. Just now I considered Googling what these are actually called, but I really don’t want to know. To summarize this life choice, it is a casual, comfy hoodie, ruined by a cat-sized pocket in the front where you can inconveniently carry around that tiny thing that is almost a baby, but definitely isn’t. She loves her new Ergo Kitty, though I can’t comprehend why.
She assures me that every good writer needs a cat. She’s been attempting this line of brainwashing for several months now, even before she rescued her newest, littlest cat. Now that she has one the size of a human fist, she seems to think I will be won over by it’s cuteness. Sure, it’s okay looking, and it certainly explains something about those stuffed animal cats with the oversized sparkly eyes. But I fail to see why I would introduce something to my life that only impedes my progress by scratching my kid, extending my bathroom to the hallway with its litter box, and sitting on my keyboard.
There is a hashtag on Instagram–#cats_of_insragram–that I plan to research later if I can stomach it. That’s how good of a friend this girl is. It’s always good to explore points of view that are different from your own, right? Maybe if I need more material I’ll check out #catinstagram or #igcats. There must be a good explanation for the madness. Until I find it, I’ll stick to my hoodie with a cell-phone sized pocket and keep my keyboard cat-hair free.
