Future delusions

I've been pondering the future for quite a while and one career path that has become viable lately has been to become a Crazy Cat Lady.

Traditionally, this meant taking care of a horde of evil cats, muttering to oneself until death, whereupon the demise isn't noted for weeks until the police arrive and...never mind, it's not particularly pertinent.

I must admit that being a Crazy Cat Lady does have a certain appeal. For one thing, it's really quite distinctive: every block / neighbourhood / town / whatever generally has exactly one and only one Crazy Cat Lady. Everyone knows about her. And her death will be mourned by...well...someone else I'm sure. Probably not her neighbours though.

So, after some extensive thought, I've decided to get an early start on it. I now am the proud owner of 11 imaginary cats of all breeds, all named using prime numbers thusly: 2+i, 3+i, 5+i, 7+i,...

They can a bit of nuisance sometimes and I've always found it rather odd that the rest of them keep picking on 2+i, like as if she's different or something. I'm also wondering if I should have started off with quite that many cats - I still need to do the math as to whether this is really a factor. Having said that, I don't see any negatives in any of them. Plus, there's also a lot of misinformation about how to acquire more cats - I'll have to sieve the fact from fiction.

Hmm...the largest, fattest one (31+i) constantly demands my attention. I numbered them for convenience because I expect to have no problems getting a near infinite number of cats though the fact that they're imaginary does add a level of complexity to it. But "31+i" is a bit of a mouthful, even within my delusions. I'm thinking of naming her Mersenne - it's such a pretty name, wouldn't you agree?

My friends think I'm off my rocker. Perhaps they're right.

Fame

My dear sister made the local newspaper recently! She attended a charity event a few weeks ago to help raise funds for a local medical care centre. I don't think she was expecting or even had knowledge of it, but there was a reporter in the crowd and out of all the volunteers and glitterati there, the reporter chose her pic as one of the handful featured in the article! Of course, the fact that's positively stunning in traditional Chinese dress probably had something to do with it as well!

For as long as I can remember, she's always self-identified as an artist first and foremost. Sure enough, she's identified in the article as an artist!

I did ask her if she'll remember me when she's famous (she said "Yes") and if she'll give me money when she's got gobs of it (she answered "No"). *sigh* Fame corrupts so easily! :)

Joking aside, I'm soooooooooooo proud of her! She's worked amazingly hard for years to get her craft business off the ground and perfect her artistry. She does amazing things to leather, transforming a base piece of cowhide into painted, hand-sculpted masks of breathtaking beauty. I'm about as artistic as a lump of coal...and even I "get" some of her masks. It can be quite tough to succeed as an artist of any kind and it's usually a thankless task with long hours and little appreciation to show for it. I think it's positively fantastic that she's finally getting the recognition she deserves.

I can't wait to see what she does next! Congrats, sis!

A Hope for Peace

I had a good long chat with my friend who is recovering from surgery similar to what I'm scheduled to have. She's had a nasty time of it, with pain-filled days as recovery happens ever so slowly. Despite all that, she's quite cheerful today and she remarked that the day felt odd to her but that she's finally figured out why. She said that she's finally at peace, and that is going to take her a while to get used to.

I understand that that is a common sentiment amongst my fellow sufferers of the Condition, that there is a serenity so deep that can only come post-operatively.

I'm not sure I know what to think of that. I don't believe I've ever felt completely at peace and certainly nowhere near serene. But...it would be quite pleasant to finally rest after what really was a lifetime of dealing with the Condition. And I suspect that very well be the key, that the sense of serenity comes from knowing that that part of my life will be resolved forevermore.

Truth be told, all the problems of life are still there post-operatively: the bills, taxes, work, etc. But, like the Bene Gesserit Litany, where the fear has gone there will be nothing - only I remain.

Meanwhile, I'll just go hide over there under the surgery happens, shall I?