I recently re-read the post I wrote on New Year's Eve. I remember the afternoon. I was sitting in my favorite coffee shop, typing away on my computer, reflecting on my year. It had been a good year, and I was looking forward to 2013.
HAHAHAHA. That's so cute.
Hours later my grandpa would die. Two weeks after that my grandma would die. One month after that my dad would lose his job. So, basically, if you're a part of my family, you're, like, toeing the edge of a cliff all, "I'LL DO IT. I WILL. I WILL TOTALLY JUMP OFF THIS THING. LEAVE ME ALONE."
But now it's a new month, nothing horrifying happened in March, and everyone is slowwwwwly realizing that maybe we made it through the worst of the things. All the things. All the bad. Maybe.
However, if you are me, you are irrational and begin to fear your own shadow because WHO DIED? What happened? Are all of my limbs still attached? I have been on the receiving end of bad news phone calls so often that I still hesitate just a second when I see a call coming in from my mom.
My parents, understandably, are under some stress. My mom, understandably, handles bad things about as well as I do -- not at all. So when I call her, and she sounds even the slightest bit sad, my mind runs down the list of devastating things that probably happened that she's just not telling me about because she knows how I handle bad things -- not at all.
Suddenly everyone and everything feels fragile, especially my mom and dad. I want to throw them in a damn bubble or keep them safe in my pocket because when bad things happen to them, they happen to me, in my head. And if they hurt, I hurt. And this is totally what it's like to be a parent, isn't it?
But it's extended beyond my parents and onto my cats. Chicken, lately, has been quite the cuddly thing. Chicken, as you may or may not know, does not cuddle. She hates you. Yes, all of you. But now all of a sudden she's adorable and affectionate and OMG WHAT IS WRONG ARE YOU DYING TELL ME RIGHT NOW.
So, now I'm throwing my cats into the bubble with my mom and dad, and things are getting super crowded and smelly and uncomfortable in there, but I just don't care. The cats are smelly, not my parents. Just to clarify.
I realize this is no way to live, and it will pass. Eventually. But there are one, two... FIVE things you just cannot mess with: my mom, my dad, my sister, and my cats. Yes, I just named my cats in a list of family members with whom the world revolves around, deal with it.
So shhh, World. Shhhh. You just go pester someone else a while. I'm too neurotic for you right now.