So I got home this evening - around 10:45 - from having carne asada tacos that were just okay, and a shrimp cevice tostada (fake-style, with cooked shrimp) that was pretty damned tasty.
A moment after entering Casa de DZ, I was keen that and something was odd, misplaced, not quite right. In fact, I soon realized that the three large, glossy, white, sheen-like-tigers-blood bookshelves I had drilled into the wall above my couch were now on my brown leather couch, now Casa de Unhappy.
On these shelves were an assortment of stuffs. Games, new glass candles from Ikea, a tiny plant, books, things I've collected over the years, etc. Seeing as I only moved in a month ago and am still organizing and arranging things, said stuffs were not yet organized in the lovely fashion I'd hoped for them to be organized in. Still, these various goodies were now re-organized in a sad fashion, broken into bits, scattered about, re-composing themselves in a new style of which I did not approve.
My first reaction: "fucking cat!"
How like Charlie, Mr. Alpha Boy, to jump on these shelves and explore, only to take them all down like bold, heavy, tragic dominoes. He's got to be soooo curious, soooo nosy, and my guess is he saw something green and growing there to munch on... In this case, a small cactus, which he would surely not gnaw on, and which now lay on said couch in said sad fashion. ("Help me. I may be prickly, but I am fragile and vulnerable.")
So here's the amazing part: my second and lasting reaction was, "clean up, get over it, it's only stuff".
Where in the hell did that come from? Swooped down upon me like Lord Jesus in a Hummer Convertible, dancing in a toga to "Circus" from Britney Spears. (Yeah, Pandora is pretty-much changing my life.)
So out come the broom, dustpan and baby broom. Pick things up, shake off broken shards of glass and that curious dry-dirt-and-tiny-styrofoam-ball debris that go in the $1.99 plants. And I was talking to God the whole while.
I realized, once the 3-second flash of anger came and went, that:
a) it very well may have been my cat's doing
b) what good would it do either of us to get all huffy
c) it's just stuff, and stuff can be replaced
d) noone got hurt
e) it's really all my fault, because
1) the shelves were never properly-secured
2) it's my responsibility, as a cat owner, to either have shelves he can safely jump onto, or find ways to prevent him from getting on them in the first place
The fact is, I need to have a home that is safe for my cat, and clearly that's an example of unsafe. I am grateful that he's okay.
The biggest material loss is a $60 Ikea lamp that I rather liked, but again, easily-replaceable.
Some amazing things are happening to me, on the inside, and I am aware and so grateful. Looks like I may finally be growing up...
not a "cat Man" myself and would have been swinging said cat by the tail. But that calm after calamity rush is such a good feeling and vindication that despite the world's nutty circumstances an inner program does kick it. Keep it up Z-man. Loving this blog.
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