Sometimes when Zen wakes me up seven minutes before my alarm goes off, I forget. I forget this nineteen-year history between us and how she has always confounded me in these bleary early-morning moments. When she was younger, there was less yowling, but she still stalked the edges of my sleep, an unwary perimeter, desultorily guarding one side or the other. It has never been clear.
Zen isn’t an affectionate cat, or at least her “capricious” process tends to have priority over her “demonstrative” one.
But then on a rare occasion she yowls to be picked up and she snuggles me, proper snuggles with snout digging into my arm and purrs loud enough to jostle the fabric of my sweatshirt. And I think: okay, I get you.
I wore my lightest summer clothing that was still appropriate for work today and it was still sweltering. But I do love summertime dusk, right when the breeze hits, smelling like rose and jasmine.
The stupendous part of a one-day weekend last week is a three-day weekend this week! Of course I’m already dozing off in my chair, but it’s going to get great as soon as I recharge my introvert battery.
I spend a lot of time on the TriMet bus. So much time, in fact, that I’m a little smug about how much reading I get done these days. Books, not internet. At first, I read news on the way to work, but that was just too bleak. (That said, I recently enjoyed reading George Lakoff’s “Understanding Trump” … but not while commuting.)
Today’s photo is of the upholstery on my bus, which reminds me of the beloved PDX carpet, only with 99% more paramecia. Which is fitting, because sometimes I share a bus with humans who behave more like single-celled organisms. On my ride home on Sunday a gent sat next to me and attempted to roll around on me, citing “arm pain”. I refrained from channeling my inner Liam Neeson. My inner Liam Neeson really wanted to tell this guy what kind of pain he was about to experience if he didn’t stop rolling around on me.
Instead I excused myself, stood up, and moved to the back of the bus. Mr. Arm Pain proceeded to grumble at me — all the way across the bus — for moving my seat.
And that’s TriMet life. Most of the time it’s peachy-keen, three hours a day of free reading time. Plus one of my coworkers takes the same bus, and so for half of my commute, I have an awesome seat-mate who doesn’t even mind if I doze off.
Writing from: my stifling study. Sticky temps here. Listening to: the hum of the fan and the faint rush of cars a block away.
It’s funny, the halfway brain that sprouts from sleep deprivation. I wake up at 05:30 but really I wake up on the bus in downtown Portland, trying to remember if I did basic things like dress myself and feed myself and not leave the front door wide open.
So far, I’m doing pretty well. (But let’s not jinx it.)
Many photos to catch up on! Nineteen, in fact. I may have a little bit of a preoccupation with flowers. To be fair, this city blooms gratuitously. And now ripe apples and plums are falling off the trees, sometimes knocking me in the head like a physics lesson.
Day 189 of Project 365: Daisydrops.
Day 190 of Project 365: On the road.
Day 191 of Project 365: Poppy up.
Day 192 of Project 365: Rosa.
Day 193 of Project 365: Foiled kitty.
Day 194 of Project 365: Biting the Bullet Journal.
Day 195 of Project 365: Hi, stranger.
Day 196 of Project 365: Requisite Prisma Selfie.
Day 197 of Project 365: Queen Anne’s Lace.
Day 198 of Project 365: Curly cat.
Day 199 of Project 365: OK Pokemon Go.
Day 200 of Project 365: Sparkly treat.
Day 201 of Project 365: Evening commute.
Day 202 of Project 365: Cousin George.
Day 203 of Project 365: Beaverton.
Day 204 of Project 365: Out of service.
Day 205 of Project 365: Anticipation.
Day 206 of Project 365: Daybed.
Day 207 of Project 365: One big orchard.
I’m still in love with my new job, but it is mentally and socially intense. Most evenings I come home and barely have enough energy to eat dinner. While my in-laws were in town, we managed a little weekend escape to Forest Grove, which I needed desperately.
Zen now reliably wakes me up with mournful howling before my alarm goes off. While FunkyPlaid is out of town I have taken to sleeping in my study downstairs so I can soothe her faster.
I tried to switch back to an electronic task list but my Bullet Journal is just too good.
I dealt with my mobile service woes, including a factory reset of my iPhone which sucked up a day and a half, one of those being a weekend day I was rather cranky to sacrifice at the altar of the capricious technology gods.
And I bought body lotion. Big deal, right? Well, it is my favorite, and I had been holding off on buying some until I had my own income again. It became a bit of a symbol, this body lotion, and I relished the anticipation.
O yeah, and I tried Pokémon Go! I am entertained by it but perhaps not as much as actual Pokémon fans or at least people who like wandering around with their phones out. Since the library is a Pokémon Gym, I regularly witness Pokémon Go players bumping into things. I try not to laugh.
Time for bed. Tonight I will rest well, being all caught up with my project. Well, for a few hours. Then Zen will start to sing …
Writing from: my study. Listening to: some episode of “Prison Break” I’m not really watching.