The one where June lets life just roll off her

Yesterday was absurd.

I’d had slowness at work, which is stressful because you have to account for every hour so we can bill someone or other, and if you have hours and hours of, yeah, I sat around waiting for work, they frown on that. But if there’s no work, there’s no work.

Anyway, I had an appointment to take the kittens to the shelter for their feral foster shots and I told everyone who mattered at work that I was taking an actual lunch to do so. All morning, it was morte. Fin. Devoid of activity at work. I was doing busywork.

So I began the process of attempting to touch Fitz, who still only lets me pet him tentatively and only when he feels like it. The best way to get him near me is to whip out baby food, and thanks to whomever suggested that. I got the baby food out and


there was the head of little Fitz. Hissy I’d picked up like a normal kitten and placed into the carrier. She’s practically tame.

Fitz was happily eating baby food and I

picked him up!!!!


But when I placed him in the carrier, he

FREAKED THE FUCK OUT and hissed and spitted and frankly I was scared to death of him. Little feral kittens can fuck you UP.

He got away, into the far reaches of the closet, and nothing would touch him the rest of the day. Meanwhile, Hissy opened the carrier and walked out on her own, joining Fitz in the back of the closet.

My grandmother used to tell stories that ended, “And I just set and cried.”

No one was answering at the shelter and I was due there in 15 minutes. Finally, through a series of Facebook messages and repeated calls, I got someone who told me we can try again this weekend, and in the meantime, come get food and another carrier.

I’m going to feed them IN the carrier, so they have to go in and out of there and see the carrier like it’s no big deal. Fitz was on a hunger strike till this morning when he finally creeped in. It’s the first I’ve seen of him, as he’s back to hating me.

So I was stressed and weepy and my shoulders were past my brain when I returned to my computer and had 3949459404034 work messages. CAN YOU DO THIS NOW?

It’s not even supposed to work that way. There’s a person in charge of distributing the work. They should ask her if I’m available rather than sending a frantic email expecting that I hover there like a spider awaiting things. If they’d have asked her, she’d have said, “Oh, June is ACTUALLY TAKING A LUNCH today and trying to do good in the world and will be back at 1:00.”

So I killed self to get the work done on time, and naturally it was extra-detailed and frustrating work, and by 6:00 I understood why people climbed to water towers with shotguns.

So here’s what I did.

I fed all these goddamn animals, including the ungrateful fosters.

Then, I did Tracy Anderson. I did the shit out of Tracy Anderson. Gwynneth Paltrow has never pounded Tracy Anderson the way I did last night.

Then I took a stompy walk. Last night when I was trying to sleep I noted my shins hurt and I recalled stomp stomp stomping around my neighborhood. At one point, I was down at the end of my street, which is just one house down, but I was at the dead-end part, which is a little wildernessy. Wild roses grow down there, and the grass is pretty tall. That’s why, as you can imagine, I

jumped out of my fekking skin

when something brushed my ankle.

It was Milhous.

“Oh my GOD, Mil,” I said, petting him as we wound around my ankles. He just APPEARS places, and as I said that just now, I’m typing outside on my patio and I looked up and he’s standing at the end of the yard all of a sudden, like a stallion or that Mutual of Omaha stag. Was it Mutual of Omaha that had the stag?

Anyway he looks magnificent.

Near the end of my stompabout, I stopped to talk to Haint Blue neighbor, who said, “You know your cat’s following you, don’t you?” And behind me with his tail curled seductively was Milhous. No, I’d had no idea he’d followed me beyond that alley.

When I got home, I played tepid Blu with Edsel, where I throw Blu way less enthusiastically than I used to, for his heart and all. I’d considered taking him on stomp walk but I knew I’d go too fast. Some mornings now when I wake up he won’t get off his bed. He used to leap up and wag at me before my eyes were even open, just magically knowing I’d woken up. Now I get up and go to his bed and pet him there, and help him up on bad days.

Once he’s up, he’s good. It’s like recharging a phone.

After Tracy Anderson and stomp walk and fetching Blu, I took the world’s longest hottest shower, and by the time I was done, I felt better. I drank several small bottles of the coldest water (I set the fridge to really cold. Is that bad for actual food? I ask because I have actual food now) and got into bed.

I slept like the dead and now I’m ready for another day. So far I let everyone out and watched all three cats pee in unison outside. Works for me that they pee out here. Then I watched Edsel and Milhous tag team a squirrel, and it was awful, but he got away and is warning all his squirrel friends. The cicadas are already chirping and I kind of love summer mornings when cicadas chirp. Or rattle. What is it they do?

On Monday, I’ll let you know if those poor feral kittens finally got their shots. There may be more stomp walks in my future.


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At one point, I was sort of hot, in a "she's 27 and probably a 7" kind of a way. Now I'm old and have to develop a charming personality. Guess how that's going.

40 thoughts on “The one where June lets life just roll off her”

  1. Thank you again for writing. You are one of the few safe places I can go online. Facebook feels like a war zone right now. I loved your post, and I love the Frida picture up top. That couple makes me want to ask the age old question “how did he get her?” .


  2. My first through was snake when you felt the brush against your ankle. What a relief, it’s Milhous. That poor baby foster, I hope the feeding in the carrier will help ease the trauma of transporting him to the shelter.


  3. June, your voice enchants my eardrums.
    Also, don’t even get me started on how horrible the Mercury in Retrograde shit storm is. My friends are going through some BAD stuff. Good luck to all! Thanks to June for making us laugh. Even though I’m on Paxil too, I can still laugh but yeah, not cry so much. And why is my state of Florida wide open? Please someone tell me?


  4. in the early days of this COVIDcation we are all taking together, I was stomp-walking 4 miles a day. I stomped so much, I actually hurt myself. WALKING. (IT band injury; now I have to go to scary PT place once a week! MASKS, everyone!)

    I stomp-walked up from my basement work space yesterday at 5:30 when the fecking power went out for absofuckinglutely no reason at all. So I couldn’t work any more (yay!) but we had no AC (boo!). It was out for seven hours. It was … not a good night here in my house. Everyone, human and canine alike, was out of sorts.

    Anyone else – Paula? – read that paragraph about something around your ankles superfast and was SURE it was going to be a snake story and just laughed at ol’ Mil, doing the pheromone rub?


  5. I take paxil. I cannot cry when I take it. I sometimes feel the need, but just can’t. I used to cry all the time. It’s a strange catch-22.


  6. We just boarded our temp cat while we’ve been gone (he’s technically a foster I guess, but we just have him until he can get back to Angola when his French-Bangkok family returns after they reopen the borders…long story. Did I tell you?). ANYWAY, I tried putting him in the carrier for the first time since he arrived back in March to take him to the vet for boarding, and that was a fat no-go. His legs and paws and claws all splayed out to the four corners, and he scratched at me until I let go, and then he ran and hid in the bathroom. Made me so sad. We’ve worked hard to gain his trust and he’s been so sweet and cuddly, as of late. We ended up covering him with a towel so he couldn’t scratch at me, but he didn’t even resist when I picked him up or put him in the carrier (though I still had to push his butt in to close the door). And I didn’t have to do it super rushed or roughly because he wasn’t freaking out. We pick him up tomorrow. I can’t wait to love on him!!

    Anyway. Use a towel. That’s my tip. Protects you from scratches and bites, and keeps them from freaking out.


  7. Great post – ooh that Milhouse around the ankle – brought back memories – but not of a cat!
    Cash – in AZ many places won’t accept it and they do not have coins either… crazy world. So June – your house is magnificent! I ache for my old little house – but going to the valley of heat today and hoping to avoid covid that as you all know – is rampant here in the desert!


  8. Feeding in the carries seems genuis. Hope that is the ticket. I attribute my good sleep nights to tough workouts. Have a good weekend without last minute work demands.


  9. Good luck with the cat wrangling!

    Isn’t is amazing that with so many things in life stripped away, there are still plenty of little frustrating things?! I walk through my neighborhood every day, but this week I’ve had somewhere between one and seven stompy walks (side eye to Mr. Texas.)


  10. Don’t you wish you could just not give a shit about last minute out-of-process work? I always want to just say “Submit it the right way, and it’ll get done, otherwise, tough titties” but my work ethic will not allow that. I MUST help. Damn work ethic.

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Coincidentally, a bookstore friend quoted this to me this week: “The dry and exalted noise of the locusts from all the air at once enchants my eardrums.” That’s the difference between the 20th century and the 21st. I hope people will be quoting June someday.


  12. You convey your emotion well, but I still see you as pretty calm when it comes to your workload. I get all torn up when I get last minute work and EVERYONE knows it. So I admire your restraint and dedication to your work. I should try that model on for a while.

    My cat Murphy used to follow me on walks. He’d be behind me meowing the whole time but if I walked back towards him he’d walk away. It was like he was my bodyguard when I was walking and he couldn’t get too close to me for fear of not taking the bullet meant for me. Or something.


  13. I could use a good stompy walk. Poor kitties. I hope they forget about the carrier incident quick. Feeding in the carrier is a good idea, as well as just leaving it out for them to come & go as they please. Good luck!


  14. Milhous following you on your walk reminds me of my neighbor’s cat taking his morning walk by following along when his owner takes his dog for a walk. Seeing the cat walking just behind them always makes me smile.


  15. That was a very healthy, adult way to handle a crappy day. I envy that right about now.
    Yesterday was a crappy day for me, and I just ended up crying all over the place and my poor husband came home from working overtime and had the misfortune to ask “what’s wrong?” I let loose with a string of blubbering over things I can’t control – my allergies are horrific right now, my head is splitting open; my face hurts (it’s been 7 months since they carved out my turning cancerous tumor and parotid gland, shouldn’t this be over?); my mom died (May 5) and I have 0 parents left now; and my remaining teenager acts like I’m a burden to his existence (he’s my third kid, I should know this routine).
    Husband was like “oh.”
    I read there’s some rare misalignment of planets and some doozy retrograde going on, so I’m blaming that. I wish I was grown up enough to take a stomp walk and hot shower.


    1. You needed a good cry. I’m sorry for the loss of you mother and for having to deal with everything else. How is your daughter doing? Hopefully, her health is improving.


      1. Sadie – she’s doing OK. The fever is gone, she’s getting a lot of rest. She still can’t taste or smell but she’s eating and drinking. Thanks for asking!


        1. It’s never too late for a stomp walk and a hot shower. I’m sorry for the awful things crowding you all at once.


          1. Oh Poet, I love that sentence……the awful retrograde covid stressed fog has crowded me all at once and I’m an absolute mess. For some reason, hearing that sentence just makes it feel a little better. Thank you


    2. I am so sorry that all those Bad things have ganged up on you. I hope today is better. Covid-free-virtual-hug for you.


  16. Smear some peanut butter on the back ‘wall’ of the carrier. He’ll go in. It has worked well for dogs into the bathtub too.


  17. “Gwynneth Paltrow has never pounded Tracy Anderson the way I did last night.” Even emotionally you can still be funny. I really admire how you had a day and instead of turning to ice cream and alcohol like I would you instead acknowledged the hard day and made smart choices to deal. I need to learn this.

    Liked by 3 people

  18. I’m so sorry yesterday was difficult. May today be easier and Covid-free.

    Lovely post, pretty June – x three? I’m way behind due to chaos here. I’m still giggling over the post from a couple of days ago with Milhouse riding the cans.


  19. Phyllis is proud. She is also snickering like Muttley from that Wacky Races cartoon of my youth. I would put a GIF here, but I am challenged (un-PC: too stupid). We have to catch Phyllis for the vet tomorrow. Oy. First I have a dental appointment (DNGMS) and they have sent an email every day: Don’t Forget Your Mask!! Ok, fine, but ??? Clearly the mask has to come off for the actual appointment and these people were practically wearing hazmat suits before COVID. I’m afraid they will look like Dustin Hoffman in Outbreak tomorrow. (Would insert something here, but see above.) So I have a rock and rolling Saturday planned: dentist and vet AND I have to go to the bank. I still haven’t recovered from my last COVID trip to the bank. Why WHY do people want cash? Some jamoke is coming to check something in our house on Monday and requested cash. Hello 1985. How’s about Venmo? I just learned Venmo. Or Paypal? I’ve had that for years. Newp. CASH, lady. Lu suspect.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I think a lot more people will be requesting cash. The stores, restaurants here say they have NO change! You must use a card. New norm I suspect.


    2. Paula, I don’t want to alarm you, but I pay cash for all my groceries, eating out, as if we do that anymore, and trips to Lowe’s. It makes my life soooo much easier not having to keep up with the debit card charges that I don’t make when I balance the checkbook.


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