Little Savia Sunshine

This week started out very weird for me. Usually, I drag myself out of bed as close to the wire as possible, throw on whatever doesn't have cat puke on it, and drive to work with the nagging knowledge that I am going to be late. I then pretty much hide under my desk for the majority of the morning until I am feeling human enough to talk to my co-workers.

Monday was different, though. Perhaps because our elusive sun actually came out to play that day. Here's what happened: One of my co-workers is a chipper, very talkative person who is always friendly and enthusiastic when she corners you for a conversation. But as happy as she seems in passing, I noticed a certain heaviness about her as she is walking and she thinks no one is watching. I just had a feeling that she's having a hard time at work.

I have a very high opinion of this person's work, and I know others do too. I wondered if she knew this and if she would think differently about herself if she were aware.

So, on Monday morning, I went to her office and said something like this:

"Hi. I know that often, we don't get to hear the positive things people say about us behind our backs, so I wanted to let you know that I think you're doing an awesome job. You are so friendly and enthusiastic, and you are so passionate and dedicated to what you do. I've talked to a lot of other people and they feel the same way. You should be very proud of the work you're doing here, and I'm really glad I've had the chance to work with you. You rock."

You should have seen the look on her face. She totally didn't see that coming. I like to call it a 'hit and run' compliment. She was really touched, though, and I think it helped her feel a little more secure in her abilities.

Feeling very good about my drive-by sunshine sharing, I came across our office cleaning lady later that day. Now, this woman is absolutely fantastic. She is so friendly and always has a bright smile and hello for everyone who walks by. We've kind of adopted her. Here's another person I think very highly of - does she know how important she is? Well, guess what I did? Drive by number 2:

"Hi. I just want you to know how great it felt to come to an office that was so clean and smelled so fresh. What a wonderful way to start a Monday morning. You do such a great job here. Every time I see you, it makes my day because you are so smiley and great to be around."

Another shocked victim.

Who will stop me? When will it end?? I was seriously starting to believe that something was wrong with me until I read this. Maybe it's just something in the air?

Curiosity scared the cat

I am beginning to think that my animals have been put on this planet to torment me. Being a single, childless female, my animals are my roommates, friends, family and children.

Wow, putting that in type seems quite sad. But it's true, so that sentence won't bear the brunt of my delete key wrath. For the most part, said animals are quite cute and cuddly (particularly when they are sleeping), except for the multitude of times when they decide to make my life hell.

Which brings me to the case in point. Last night, I was having a tough time sleeping - tossing and turning, just hoping that I could drift off into the black depths and get away from the nagging little thoughts in my head. The fears about the future, the uncertainty about the massive amount of changes coming my way in the next few weeks, the worry about a good friend of mine and what she's going through right now. I was just drifting off when I heard strange crunching and crackling noises. It sounded like one of my cats was getting into something he shouldn't have. I turned a light on and looked around. I couldn't see a cat anywhere. But I could still hear the weird sounds.

Where on earth could that be coming from? In my drowzy haze, I stumbled out of bed to investigate. Still the noise; still no cat. What the fuck? Do I now have a feline ghost haunting me instead of just two evil live cats and a freak dog who thinks she's a cat? Or has this lack of sleep coupled with the frustration of consistently finding that the clothes I was about to put on have been thoroughly coated in cat puke finally pushed me over the edge to the point where I hear phantom cat noises where there is no cat? (Wow, that was a long sentence. I'm out of breath just reading it.)

Then I realized: the reason I can't see the cat isn't because I've been driven crazy by almost wearing cat vomit to work. It's because the cat isn't in the room. The cat is inside the wall. Yes, INSIDE the wall.

How on earth could he get there? Well, last weekend, Fix-It Dude was insulating that wall in response to my manic need to make my home energy efficient (the realization has just recently sunk in that I cannot sell said home for the next decade or so if I actually want to recover any of my money, but that's beside the point). Fix-It Dude made a hatch in the wall to put in the insulation. Somehow, the black and white cat got around the hatch obstacle and ended up inside the wall.

By this point, I'm freaking out. It's eerie to have an animal inside your wall. Plus, there's a lot of crap inside there. And then it dawned on me that part of the crunching noises could possibly be the cat chewing on electrical wires inside the wall. As I envisioned my electrocuted cat going up in flames and taking my energy-efficient home with him, I devised a plan.

Okay, it wasn't really a plan. It was more like this:

Saviabella: Banging on wall repeatedly. Fuck you, cat! Get the fuck out of my wall! Bang bang bang. Fucking cat - what the fuck are you doing in the wall? Don't make me come in there, you fucker! Bang bang bang.

By the time I opened the hatch to let him out, he looked like...well, a cat who had just been trapped inside a wall with a crazy woman banging and screaming at him.

I'd like to say that he's learned his lesson, but who are we kidding? Even I'm not that crazy.

Advice you can use

I was talking to my friend C the other night. C is not just a friend - C is my ex - the only ex-boyfriend that I am still on speaking terms with. The very fact that we are friends absolutely baffles me. I'm surprised it works at all. We dated more than ten years ago for about ten months. Our relationship was dysfunctional and ALL of my friends hated his guts. But we were friends before we were together, and we were friends after. (Just not during our relationship, I suppose.) The key here is that we never slept together. Maybe that's why it works.

I have a lot of admiration for people like Schmutzie and Starcat who can remain good friends after sharing a meaningful relationship. Friendship is not usually in the cards for me when a relationship ends. My theory is that that person should just Go Away. Capital G, capital A. In fact, I've even created a wonderful, fictional place to which they can go. It's called Ex Island. Ex Island is where all of our ex-partners (and friends we've had to ditch for various reasons) can go and live, so we'll never have to run into them again. This eliminates the need to make sure we look our best just in case we run into the ex at the mall. It also eliminates the gut wrenchingness of seeing that person with someone new for the first time.

Now, I know you're scratching your head and saying, "But Saviabella, this doesn't really work. You're someone's ex - we all are someone's ex something. So wouldn't everyone be on Ex Island then?" Good question, my friend. Here's the sweet part: I would get to decide who goes to Ex Island and who stays, because it's my idea. Now, I would be very fair in deciding who is extradited. In other words, I'd keep all the people I like and ship off the people I don't. So the moral of the story is - stay on my good side.

That was a big rant. This wasn't even the subject I was planning to write on when I started this post. To steal a technique from Schmutzie, if you're still with me, post a comment answering this question: If Ex Island were real, would you send someone there? Or are you friends with all your exes?

Getting back to the point, C and I were talking the other night about our common circumstance - being single, and the judgment we receive from others for being single. I was telling him about my most hated question in the world: Why don't you have a girl/boyfriend?

C: I have the perfect answer to that question. I just used it the other day.
S: What?
C: It goes something like this: (voice becomes serious and a little vulnerable) I knew true love once, but she's gone. She died in a tragic accident a few years ago. I found the perfect person for me, my soul mate, and now it just seems pointless to look for someone else, knowing that my one true love has already come and gone in my life. The pain is just too great. It's hard getting out of bed some days. Maybe one day, I'll be ready to look again, but to honour her memory, I feel it's best to be alone.
S: Shut up. You seriously didn't say that.
C: Oh, I did.
S: Well, what did the other person do?
C: He didn't know what to do. He kind of twitched, and then walked away in mid-conversation.
S: I'll have to remember that.

The carny man can

Saviabella is at the annual fair. She spots the Olde Tyme Root Beer barrel and it reminds her of her youth. She decides to order some.

Saviabella: May I have a large sugar-free root beer, please?
Carny: Sure. [Proceeds to pour cup of regular root beer]
Saviabella: [Pointing at the other root beer tap] Excuse me, but isn't that the tap for the sugar-free one?
Carny: Oh, my bad. [Takes cup out from under tap. Then takes sip out of cup.] Oh, look. I took a sip out of it. My bad. [Dumps the root beer out and then takes the same cup that he's just taken a sip out of and begins to fill it under the sugar-free tap.]
Saviabella: [Surprisingly polite] Can I have a cup that you haven't taken a sip out of?
Carny: [Exasperated] Maybe you want to go somewhere else, then?