I sold the Rex Chairs on Craigslist. $275 for three chairs that I had found for $45. I probably could have gotten more, if I had put them on ebay or waited… this fella made me an offer for two and i made him take all three, but unlike Himself and Mrs Himself, i’m not a greedy person. My goal is expediency, whatever i can do to get out of here easier and cleaner….apparently ‘faster’ is out of my control. But that’s not why i sold the chairs…I did it for the money…and to keep the chairs from drying out in my apartment, making it harder to sell them later and to pay bills. Now I am wishing I had a lot more chairs to sell.
I walked the money down to the bank and then brought a bit over to the mechanic. It was nice weather for a walk, but where i live, grownups don’t walk, and unless you are in spandex or shorts, we don’t ride bikes on the street either. Full grown people wearing street clothes, walking a distance or cycling from place to place may as well be wearing a sign around their neck saying, ‘i’m an drunk who’s lost my license’ and no i am NOT kidding. Elsewhere people walk for pleasure or to be green, but that place is not this place. But i went down and shot the shit with the mechanic, i couldn’t get square with him so i paid him with with some attention. My mechanic is a lovely man, a bit of a slovenly hoarder but a good soul….i know for a fact, i am not the only person paying him on tick. Surprisingly he’s very open about his hoarding, and unapologetic, and was telling me about his landlord who is apparently has the illness on a much more severe scale, the kind of conversation that makes me go home and feed the dumpster.
Here i was thinking i was getting a handle on the cat thing…and i get a late night facebook message from one of my cousins…One of my aunts cats went crazy and was now locked in a bathroom and would i come make the problem go away? for accuracy, they used be my cousin’s cats …no, the cousin that died, not the one on facebook…..and her dying wish was that her mother take care of her cats…well her mother doesn’t wanna take care of her cats not anymore…and her other kids and grand kids are pet less people playing the ‘i got allergies’ card, cause they didnt expose their kids to pets as babies. fuck em. – so that’s how i found myself at midnight in the bathroom of my childhood home trying cat whisper a pissed off cat into a carrier. Turns out that the two cats have been fighting once in a while for basically ever, just last night got a little out of hand and it took it a while to calm down. Once i started distracting it, everything was all head butts and chin scratches, but my aunt still couldn’t be pursaded to keep it, in fact she doesn’t want the other one either.
Of course I took it home and set it up in a cage at about 3 am..and i am still paying for it, it’s 12 hours later and i can’t WAKE UP, i feel like i got hit by a bus. But some of that hangover was probably stress – My aunt (my mother’s younger sister, whom i only see at funerals every few years,) and i ended up talking for about 3 hours on the stairs in front of the doorway. With my mother dead and no other reason to pretend any longer, i did manage to find out that the family kinda did sort of suspect that my mother was beating the shit out of me from time to time…they were only concerned because she used
to leave me alone at night a lot, in fact I actually preferred that…but after 50 plus years it is a little anticlimactic to find out something i already knew…no one really gave a shit – not enough to take on Herself. Anyway it was a good talk…and she wants me to take away more of my dead cousin’s crap…like her cds and stuff…i think i may get her bike out of it.
In the meantime i have Smokey there parked in the living room – trust me if i could adopt out older cats i wouldn’t have as many of my own.