I'm Not Sure Which is Worse...
The fact that I still read my horoscope when it's always wrong or the fact I won't be ready for my move or that Will is still missing. I'm seriously going off the deep end with this one. I haven't been big on asking for help. And I need it. Desperately. You'd think I'd learn by now. I consult people. Pay them for their services. Which I usually can't afford. I do the work myself. But help? I still haven't gotten that one down. Today I consulted a psychic. She's a telepathic pet communicator. This is what she gleaned from her conversation with Little Will:
He's still alive.
He's playing with an orange tabby.
He's being fed.
He crossed two streets and thinks he's on an adventure.
The place he's hanging out at is a grey building with ivy and vines.
He thought the energy in the apartment got weird when Kelly started packing and I went away.
He loves me.
He loves Skunk but thinks she's boring.
(I felt bad about the Skunk thing... she's not boring!)
He's not being held against his will.
All of this bodes well, but doesn't. I'm still circling the neighborhood like a crazy person. I still haven't found him. Today after I talked to another neighbor who is just about distressed as I am, I did a Craig's List listing which was much easier with the help of this blog. If you've already posted a picture on the blog, you can just load it by using the blog link. How great is that? That was the easiest part of my day.
When I was talking to the neighbor who is in love with my cat, another girl walked by. She looked at my neighbor and said, "Will is missing?!" She was apoplectic. "How is that possible?" she asked. "Everyone knows Will. Someone has to have him." You'd think, right? This girl? She had no idea who I was. I stood there and listened to the two of them talk about my cat like he was the best thing sliced bread or Bobby Fisher. Then I said to the girl, "Will is my cat." Then we chatted some more. She promised that we would find him. And that was that. Boxes packed today given all the hoopla: 9. That is not enough.
He's still alive.
He's playing with an orange tabby.
He's being fed.
He crossed two streets and thinks he's on an adventure.
The place he's hanging out at is a grey building with ivy and vines.
He thought the energy in the apartment got weird when Kelly started packing and I went away.
He loves me.
He loves Skunk but thinks she's boring.
(I felt bad about the Skunk thing... she's not boring!)
He's not being held against his will.
All of this bodes well, but doesn't. I'm still circling the neighborhood like a crazy person. I still haven't found him. Today after I talked to another neighbor who is just about distressed as I am, I did a Craig's List listing which was much easier with the help of this blog. If you've already posted a picture on the blog, you can just load it by using the blog link. How great is that? That was the easiest part of my day.
When I was talking to the neighbor who is in love with my cat, another girl walked by. She looked at my neighbor and said, "Will is missing?!" She was apoplectic. "How is that possible?" she asked. "Everyone knows Will. Someone has to have him." You'd think, right? This girl? She had no idea who I was. I stood there and listened to the two of them talk about my cat like he was the best thing sliced bread or Bobby Fisher. Then I said to the girl, "Will is my cat." Then we chatted some more. She promised that we would find him. And that was that. Boxes packed today given all the hoopla: 9. That is not enough.
posted by jodypwrites | 5:09 AM
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