I bent up with an "Ooooof!" of pained confusion, only to see my cat's hindquarters fly off the bed. He had readied for launch from the window ledge above my unknowing, slumbering body and catapulted himself through the air, landing on my stomach and reverberating a sharp pang through my midsection. He then halted at the doorway and began to meow like a long-neglected feline. Knowing this drama would not cease until I peeled myself out of bed, I surrendered and padded out of the room, barely missing a puddle of throw up with my moccasin slipper. Another hairball to begin the day. Oh goodie. I cleaned up the mess [that also blotched every level of his cat tree and dripped brown sludge down the wall], quickly dressed and gathered my stuff for a trip to the coffee shop, feeling a micro blog ready to pour through. After settling in with a non-dairy mocha and gluten free pastry, I realized I forgot my laptop.
But I didn't want it to be another one of those days! Where I tacked along, pulled by one fire after another to quell or distinguish, until the next nebulous of mishap encircled my entire scope of productivity for the day, dashing any hope of creative momentum.
Sooooo . . . I did what I often do when something doesn't really go my way and I don't know what else to do. I bought a plant. Actually, three. As I meandered around our delightful neighborhood nursery, I studied the descriptions and caressed the leaves of pretty green things, surrounded by Halloween-colored monarch butterflies hovering on the slightest of breezes. The air was both crisp and warm. It was so quiet I could barely detect other plant lovers as they moved impressively mellow and gentle, rolling around their green carts to restock soil and pluck plantings for fall. On the drive home, light painted my forehead and air careened in through the sun roof. I suspended myself in the beautiful subtlety of a Sunday morning, absorbing the resonance of church bells as I unpacked my new succulent babies, relieved that I got outside to welcome in a different day than the one that kickstarted rather annoyingly. Jaxy Panda Oreo Cookie Baby Boy sauntered to the door with true cat swagger and an "I have arrived" meow. I swooped him up, snuggled his scruff and recited words into his fur so he could read their vibration. The same words I tell him at the beginning of every day, "Good Morning, My Love."