My cat has become a man…

Sounds ironic when I say my cat has become a man only after enduring the surgical process of ball removal…. Elegantly put, no? I thought so.

In honor of Peter Pan (cat’s name) letting go (against his will) of the things in life we, as humans, are all scared to seperate ourselves from (Men, keep your balls), I’d like to do the same (I don’t have balls, so I’m set there. But I have baggage.) Going into this week, I’d like to purge myself of all the shit I don’t need. I want to do more to benefit my health (mental and physical). I’d like to take time for myself, but not by laying in my bed. I want to try things or step out of my comfort zone by going somewhere by myself. I want to buy healthy foods, and reserve splurging for the weekends. I hope to one day not even have the desire to “splurge.”

I want to look for other jobs, just to see what it feels like. I want to look at college classes at the local community college and make plans to take one or two next semester. I want to find a life outside of the life I maintain now. I want to take action to be happy. I want to start living the only life I’ll ever have. I want to make an effort to write daily, outside of the writing I already do at work. I want to volunteer somewhere. I want to make my mark.

And I never want to take the Elizabethan collar off my poor cat ’cause he looks so darn cute, but I guess I should…