Sometimes, I don't know why I do the things I do. One minute, I'm playing Mario Kart in my room, generally pleased with my life, and then I find myself an hour later, trying to pawn my humidifier so I can move to Kentucky and take up the glockenspiel. Like I said, I don't know how or why it happens, but it does and it may be grounds for medication; I'm fine with this. On Sunday, I made another of these bewildering decisions.
The night before, I had done battle with a box of Delicato, leaving me with less than optimal decision-making capabilities for Sunday. Sensing this, the foes of rationality set to work. I was sitting in my apartment that afternoon, watching Freaks and Geeks and getting a little giddy that I now could now see the floor in my garage. I normally don't answer my phone on Sundays, it being the day of rest and what-have-you, but my brain was clouded by the previous night, so I went ahead and looked at it. I noticed I had missed a call from KC. Figuring she was calling me to bail Danza out of jail or something, I put on my britches and checked my voice mail.
She had called me to ask if I wanted to go look at cats at the Humane Society with her. We had previously discussed me getting a cat before, her speaking about it in a very reasoned and concrete manner, whereas I talked of it more in a "Man, I'd like to buy a racehorse and ride it to work" way. I hadn't thought much of it since then. Not only did I lack any kitty supplies plus general kitty knowledge, but I didn't really feel that strongly about getting a cat. And yet, at the moment I heard that voice mail, I knew that in the very near future, I would be fully immersed in my new persona as crazy cat guy. Entirely true to form, I now find myself in just that role. I've tried to rationalize it several different ways, but here's what it comes down to: the gravitational pull around my ring of idiocy is powerful and all-consuming. Once this cat idea floated onto the horizon, I never stood a chance.
Tomorrow, I will indulge you all with the rigorous criteria behind my cat selection. But for now, I urge all of you to gaze up on Octopussy, the one-eyed wonder cat, and tremble. She's mine and I'll unleash her upon anyone foolhardy enough to anger me.
