It’s Day 8 of Blaugust 2025, and here I am sitting in my bestie’s basement at my makeshift couch desk.
I had planned to tee up a blog post by mid day, but instead found myself juggling the chaos of my work day and a personal to-do list before I left my house to come cat-sit for the weekend. I left behind Wally, the cat who will seek you out for snuggles or punish you for your micro transgressions, to stay with Grrr and Finn while their humans are out of town. I’ve yet to see Finn, who is likely conked out on a bed on the second floor. But I did get to see and give scritches to Grrr after I fed her a late dinner. I snapped a quick photo to send to my bestie and my partner, and got back a photo of Wally crying behind the French door into our house from the front hall. He’s happy half of his humans came back home, but there will be a penalty for me to serve once I return on Sunday – doubly so as I will smell like other cats.
Eight days in, and Blaugust feels like I’m settling into a sprint, even though I’m not a runner. It’s reminding me that if I want to, I can write again. Sometimes it’s easy to gather the thoughts in my head and present them to the world in something resembling coherence. Other times, it feels like I’m back at the kitchen table in my parent’s house in grade 7, stuck on homework because I can’t figure out how to take what’s in my head and put it down on paper – or, in this case, on the screen. I think the little tricks and cheat codes I’ll keep up my sleeve are the same ones that have me posting whatever’s on my mind to social media. I’ve been managing that fine quite consistently for the past twenty years; there’s not much of an excuse to not stick around with blogging longer-term this time around. I guess we’ll see where this goes!